Hogwarts One Half
by Perfect Lionheart
Summary: Nodoka Malfoy, younger sister to Lucius, fled England to escape Voldemort. Now she goes limping back with her young child in tow, fleeing Ranma's problems in Japan and bringing much of the Ranma cast with her. AU
1. Chapter 1

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter One

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Because of posting requirements of the original site, and need to retain original attribution, this first chapter is a little stilted. For that you have my apologies.

Where scenes had other authors they retain their original attribution. However, I would like to add my heartfelt thanks to all those, few though they may be, who did contribute.

I O I O I

Spells 'R'anma: Remedial Witchcraft

by Thrythlind

Kodachi looked at the item in her hand and into the dingy little antique shop she found herself in, and sighed.

"May I help you Miss?" the Wizard asked.

"Yes... I received this letter." She handed it over a letter written in green ink with a certain wax seal.

The wizard took the letter and read.

"Miss Kuno,

Due to a recent set of difficulties, it seems that your name has been overlooked for some time. While it is now far beyond the normal time for acceptance into our center for learning, it has come to my attention that a certain extra-dimensional establishment occasionally takes up residence within your local mall.

If you would present these letters to the proprietor of one Spells R'Us, you could, if desired, easily find a method to reduce your age to the appropriate level and begin studies after all. Otherwise I would not have contacted you.

We would be honored to have another member of the line of Hecate attend. House Slytherin has especially suffered from the lack of your family's firm, if odd, sense of honor.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The Wizard took look at the next few pages, which were rather the standard stuff.

"And you've decided to become a Hogwarts student, Miss Kuno?" the Wizard asked. "You'll need to be 11. I do have the magic to make you so and the books you'll need, but are you certain of this?"

"Yes..."

I O I O I

Spells R'anma: Goodbye, Nerima

by Jryu

"...do you think my brother could track me down there?" she completed with a slight sense of concern.

"Not at all." The Wizard said with a smile. "And even if he somehow managed the feat, HE could never actually get to Hogwarts, and likely wouldn't recognize you even if he could."

Kodachi breathed an extreme sigh of relief. This was an even better form of protection than hounding Ranma. To finally be free of that maniac fate made her brother! Yes, she would pay any price for that. Besides... it wasn't like there was anyone here who would actually miss her.

"Very well," Kodachi said. "How much will this cost?"

"For you, not a thing." A pretty brunette walked from the back with a potion and handed it to her.

Kodachi looked at the old wizard and his apprentice in surprise.

Before she could ask, the Wizard answered her question. "Your ancestress already arranged for both the change and transportation, should you choose it. She is quite pleased to see one of her descendants return to the family trade, so to say."

Kodachi nodded, and with a smile, downed the potion.

That evening, an eleven year old girl was on a plane, bound for Europe. No one in Nerima would ever see Kodachi again...

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: A Rose at Hogwarts

by Thrythlind

Kodachi Kuno stared around in confusion at the train station. The letter said platform nine and three-quarters and she had neglected to ask how to reach that location, simply assuming that it was some obscure European ordering system.

That is until, of course, she found herself situated between platforms nine and ten without any sign of a platform nine and three-quarters.

Asking the various people around her was proving less than useful. They simply assumed she didn't speak English very well and pointed to the platform sign and then left, or else got really annoyed.

Kodachi continued looking around in confusion, and some trepidation, worried that she'd miss the train. She nervously sat down and decided to let out the pet snake, a small boa, she had acquired, which caused a lot of people to avoid her.

Then came her salvation.

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: Once more from the top...

by Thrythlind

(apologies to Brian Drozd for the title)

"Excuse me, can you direct me to platform nine and three-quarters?" someone asked nearby. Kodachi looked up to see a boy about her age talking to one of the conductors.

"Platform nine and three-quarters?" the adult said. "Think you're being funny do you?" He shook his head irritably and walked on. The boy turned and saw her with her collection of books and things, almost identical to his.

"Excuse me, are you looking for the Hogwarts Express as well?" the boy asked, and hesitated on noticing the snake draped over her shoulders.

"Do you think I should tell him I'm lost too?" Kodachi asked the snake in what she thought was Japanese. So she was rather surprised when Harry answered.

"Oh, we're in the same boat then, aren't we?" Harry asked. "Excuse me, what was your name?"

Kodachi blinked for a moment, surprised that the boy knew Japanese. Which he didn't, of course, Kodachi just hadn't figured out that she was speaking Parseltongue, not Japanese or English.

"Kodachi..." she hesitated, not wanting to use a name her brother might eventually track down. Then she remembered the name of the house line she supposedly belonged to. "...Hecate. Kodachi Hecate."

"Same every year," a woman was saying, walking past them. "Packed with muggles."

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: Getting onto the Platform

by Lionheart

"Muggles?" Harry breathed, surprised to hear the word.

"Is that something special?" Kodachi asked, noting his interest.

Harry turned back to her with a grin. "It's the wizard word for non-magic folk. Whoever is saying it has got to be a witch. That means they'll know where the train is!"

Eleven-year-old Kodachi leapt to her feet, carrying the motion up to clear the heads of those around her by three feet, then landing lightly again by Harry's side. "It was a woman with red hair who said it?" She confirmed, she hadn't really been paying attention. When Harry nodded, she pointed and pushed off with her cart. "She went this way."

They caught them in only a few steps. If Harry'd been alone he'd have been onto them right away, but he was glad Kodachi was there. Even if she didn't know any better than him how to get onto the train she was company. At least he wasn't alone.

The woman he supposed was a witch was talking to four boys and a girl, all with flaming red hair. The boys had trunks like Harry's and one of them had an owl, so he grew more confident with each step this was the right sort of bunch, and he whispered the same to Kodachi. "I think these are the right sort. Do you see their baggage? Alot like ours, don't you think?"

His companion nodded, studying them intently and inwardly cursing her short height. When the group they were following stopped, Kodachi and her companion stopped also, just within hearing range to overhear what the woman said. When the woman sent her oldest son first, a crowd of tourists cut in between cutting off Harry's view, but Kodachi simply leapt to the top of a nearby station sign and perched there.

She watched a moment, then hopped back down beside the stunned Harry, reporting. "He went straight at the wall, walked into the bricks, and disappeared."

"It's got to be magic." Harry concluded.

Kodachi demurred the obvious answer. "But is there a magic word or something to make it work?"

The boy bit his lip. He didn't know. Hagrid hadn't told him, hadn't told him anything of how to get onto the platform. "There's only one thing, then. We've got to ask."

Kodachi agreed, and pushed her cart after Harry's as the boy closed the distance and said to the plump woman, "Excuse me."

"Hello, dears," the woman returned, frankly stunning Kodachi with her friendliness - a trait she had never much experienced, and here she was receiving it unasked, unearned, and completely out of nowhere. The woman went on to say, "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new this year as well." She indicated her youngest son, who nodded completely without fear.

Kodachi was reeling. She had never experienced anything of the sort. The closest she had ever come to this lack of hostility was Ranma, who barely tolerated her at best. Combine a family without natural affection, a harsh childhood, neighbors and schoolmates poisoned by their mothers with stories of her family and their foibles, and she had been on guard most of her life.

Here, not only had Harry accepted her without qualms, but this group of open, cheerful people was treating her as an innocent, harmless girl.

She'd fought battles, battles she knew she would always lose, fighting for scraps of attention of a man who'd only treated her with a gram of kindness. Her reaction to this flood was completely predictable.

She turned on 'sweet' mode, and determined to keep it on until she grew old and died, or something tried to come between her and this flood of kindness.

"Come on, dear," the woman prompted. "You've got a bit of a rush if we're to catch the train on time. Did you hear what I told your brother?"

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: Pretty Girl Kodachi

by Lionheart

Maximum cuteness was called for. Though it had been drilled into her on the tip of a whip, Kodachi knew manners, and etiquette, and style. She knew them in all major cultures, half a dozen languages, every populated continent, and most prominent time periods. When her parents ran out of that which was relevant, they started with the irrelevant just to have something to do.

The fact that it was taught by lash made her loathe to use most of it except in mocking terms - but it was there.

Dipping into that well of politeness, Kodachi executed a flawless English curtsy while answering "Yes, ma'am," just because that was the right thing to say to cover the gaff of having paid minimum heed to the question. But she had heard enough, and Harry's cart was just disappearing, so she followed it with her own, helplessly wondering and replaying the woman's words in her mind just in case a clue was dropped.

The information overheard while deep in thought was reassuring, so she stopped worrying about the barely-caught question and merely gave the wall a bit of a rush, skipping she was so happy.

In moments she was on the platform and simply beaming with joy, following Harry and rejoining him as he searched for an empty compartment.

Harry, for his part, smiled to see her rejoin him, glad to have the company. They had to skip the first few cars as too full, with people fighting over seats, and found an empty spot near the end. But even between them they couldn't lift their heavy trunks up the steps and into the compartment.

"Want a hand?" Cried one of the red-haired twins whom they'd followed through the wall, of the family so warm and open.

"Yes, please." Harry and Kodachi replied at once, Kodachi dropping another curtsy.

The twins gave her excessive courtesy an eye, then a shrug, and with their help the luggage was at last tucked away inside.

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: The Wiping of Sweat

by Lionheart

For the universe, this was a tense moment. If Harry's scar was shown, news would be all over the train that the famous Harry Potter was on board moments after it was out of the station yard. That would lead to a run-in with Malfoy, and Harry's determination not to join house Slytherin - which determination put him in it's rival, Gryffindor.

Harry moved to wipe his sweat, and found Kodachi's elbow in his side, and she slipped him a frilly handkerchief, which he gratefully accepted, dabbed instead of wiped so his hair stayed more or less in place, and looked at the yellow sweat-spot on the cloth with chagrin. "Uh, look. Why don't I wash this and return it to you?"

Pleased at his manners, Kodachi accepted, then took him by the arm and led him off to where the boys went after they'd thanked them.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, willing to let himself be led but wanting to know where.

"Did you see those boys?"

"Yah, sure. They went this way. But didn't we already thank them?"

"We did. But their mother thinks they are rascals. That may be true, but they did us a favor and it is only right we tell their mother so."

"But why?" Harry wondered.

Kodachi smoothed her dress and looked him over once, finding him utterly unsatisfactory, but nothing could be done about it. Boys this age always looked rumpled, as if their clothes never quite fit. "Because she probably only ever hears bad things about them."

"oh." Harry blinked, then they were there, intruding on the family.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" One of the twins teased as their mother used a kerchief to wipe a spot of dirt from her youngest boy.

"Excuse me," Kodachi pushed herself into the mess, dragging Harry with her to stand before the mother. "But we would like to thank you. These two boys helped us without being asked. It was ever so kind of them."

Both the twins blushed and looked away. Their mother stared at them in wonder, putting hands on both hips and scowling after a moment. "Fred, George, what prank did you pull on this girl?"

"Oh, they did nothing but behave like perfect gentlemen." Kodachi objected on their behalf. "They saw that we needed help getting our boxes on the train, and gave it. We just wanted to tell you how nice they were, that's all."

Harry nodded, saying, "That's right," something at a loss.

The mother looked puzzled for a moment, but could read no guilt in her boys, only their embarrassment. Having been tipped off, Harry could tell this probably was the first report of goodness she'd heard on them. The woman gave a great roll of her eyes and bent low, smiling to thank the reporting pair with warmth in her eyes, even if she didn't quite know to believe them. "Thank you for saying so."

"Good day." Kodachi curtsied. It was archaic, but effective. Inspired by her example (she'd been on the button about the other thing) Harry bowed, also muttering the polite phrase.

"Oh, but you haven't told me your names." Mrs. Weasley objected.

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: Introductions and Misconceptions

by Lionheart

"Hecate Kodachi." The girl replied, momentarily forgetting the proper order for family name and given name in this culture was different from Japan, in her distraction over seeing the oldest boy appear, already in Hogwarts robes, and wondering what the silver 'P' badge meant.

"Potter. I'm Harry Potter." Harry said himself in a rush, practically stepping on Kodachi's introduction, sounding to their ears as if he was finishing her sentence for her, and so her name would be Hecate Kodachi Potter, probably got her first name given after that ancient, and famous, Greek Witch...

But that was if they thought about her at all. Once Harry's profoundly famous name was said nothing more could be understood until the babble died down under the train whistle and they all had to rush to their compartments.

Fred and George went with the pair to their seats, finally able to press a question that they had them to themselves. "Do you remember what You-Know-Who looks like?" They asked in eager relish.

Harry frowned. "Not really. All I remember is green light, and high-pitched laughter. It's not much of a memory."

"Cool!" The twins echoed, looking at each other and rising up. "We've got to tell our friends. Look us up at Hogwarts, Harry. We'll show you a great time." They vanished, rushing forward.

Kodachi smiled at her bench-mate. "Looks like you've found two friends."

"Yeah." Harry grinned. Friends, what a concept! And no wicked Dursleys around to say he couldn't get any! "Actually," he said, on a bit of sober reflection, looking at her closely. "Don't I have three?"

Kodachi blushed.

"Yes, Harry, I would like that very much."

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: Discussions with Ron

by Lionheart

Ron leaned in the door. "Oh, there you are? Do you mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full." Taking their nods at full value, he moved in and sat with them. "It was all we could do to keep Ginny off the train. She wanted to ride to Hogwarts with you, even told mum that she could borrow your sister's things 'til mum and dad could send her some."

Kodachi's eyes widened. If Harry had a sister, why wasn't she with him?

"I have a sister?" Harry asked, confirming the question.

"Blimey, you don't have to be ashamed about it. Look at all the brothers I've got. You don't have to be bashful." Ron brushed off this protest.

"It's just..." Harry shook his head in wonder. "That I don't know much about my family. Only on my last birthday did I even learn how my parents died."

Ron's jaw dropped open. "Cor, is that true?"

Kodachi had already moved closer to Harry's side, taking his hand. Her mother had told her countless times the function of women was to soothe hurts and comfort feelings - but that was akin to an alcoholic telling his children not to drink while waving the bottle at them like a club. Still, the facts were there, if lacking in implementation.

She took Harry's hand and squeezed it. It was more difficult to do than it had once been to leap upon a man barely clothed, offering him her body (which never got taken, her attitude was downright scary back then), but the smile of gratitude she earned was worth it. It made her think this way of behaving may actually have worth to it, beyond manipulation value.

Percy, Ron's oldest sib still at school, shoved himself into their compartment. "Excuse me, but as a school prefect I'm required to send a letter ahead assuring everyone that the first years got on the train, but I'm afraid that I've forgotten the name of Harry's sister."

"Oh, this is Hecate Potter." Ron bubbled, having caught that part.

"Kodachi." The girl corrected.

"Oh?" Ron misunderstood. "So you go by your middle name, then? That's alright. Kodachi Potter, then."

"Right." Percy vanished out of the compartment.

Ron rose up to follow, vanishing with the words. "I'd best make sure he doesn't misspell it. I've seen your name on your bag, so it's alright. I'll take care of it." He shot off, so well used to old or second, third or even older hand-me-downs that he just automatically assumed the 'Potter' part of her bag had rubbed off long ago, or it was a relic from a grand-aunt who had mostly the same name or something. It had happened often enough to him, after all.

Harry and Kodachi looked at each other.

I O I O I

A Rose at Hogwarts: Confused. Are We Relations?

by Lionheart

"They think I'm your sister?" Kodachi wondered.

Harry gave a helpless shrug. "For all I know, you could be."

Kodachi was about to disabuse him of the possibility, when she thought back to her family. They were crazy loons, the lot of them. It was entirely within the realm of possibility that she might've had extra sibs no one ever told her about because they'd been high on spiked Cheese Whiz at the time they'd sold him to cannibals, or misplaced one at an airport and it was never important enough to look, or something.

Contrariwise, what if she was adopted? Or kidnapped? Or just bought from a black market child dealer because having their own proved too difficult or inconvenient? Considering how wacky her parents were generally such a thing was well within the realm of probability, and how would she know if such a thing had happened? It was hard enough getting them to reveal they'd replaced the traps on the bathroom door or which of the kitchen cupboard knobs released a hail of poisoned spikes today.

Harry noticed her pause and she turned to him somewhat apologetically. "I'm sorry. I can't say for certain it might not be true." Thinking back upon the letter, she added. "They already appear to know more about my lineage than I did. Perhaps it is true, and we just didn't know it?"

"Wow." Harry sat heavily back in his seat.

He'd thought he'd had enough surprises already today.

"Excuse me," the door slid open again. "Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

"Yes," Kodachi answered absently, her mind on other questions. "My snake ate one as we were boarding the train. I didn't know it belonged to someone. I'll gladly pay to replace it."

"Oh." Hermione said limply.

The snake hissed.

Kodachi sat up, arising out of her thoughty stupor. "For what it's worth, Shirousagi says it was delicious."

I O I O I  
Author's Notes:

Shirousagi means "White Rabbit" and is a perfect name for a snake owned by a girl who'd originally named her pet alligator "Mr. Green Turtle."

Originally posted as "A Rose at Hogwarts" at http/addventure.bast-enterprises.de/

which is a round robin story site where anyone can build off of anyone else's ideas. As such it is very rare if not unheard of for stories not to be influenced by or include bits of another's work, particularly in the first few steps.

Given the context, permission to use the original sections are implicit.

Posts are very short, averaging no more than a single scene, or even only a portion of one. However, as a result of the multiple authors or multiple directions even a single author can test out to use to explore their own story, creativity has often run very high.

After all, how often has an author started out a great story only to go downhill fast and you wish that you could've taken his plot and directed it another way? Well, that not only happens there, it's standard procedure, and doesn't necessarily prevent the original author from continuing on in the way he was going, branching endlessly down separate lines.

It can be a great place, and it was once. But various factors can make even the best idea unbearable, so it became time to move my novel-length selections from that site to another one. The first several chapters will, of necessity, bear a slightly different format than I hope for later ones, as the two sites have completely different posting requirements, and at the least the initial stages of this will be reposts of material originally featured there.

Here you go. I do hope you enjoy it. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Two

by Lionheart

I O I O I

"You don't mean you talk to snakes, do you?" Hermione stood rooted to the spot.

"Sorry I took so long." Ron shoved his way into the compartment, incidentally bringing Hermione in with him because of the cramped quarters. "Oh sorry. Anyway, this boy named Neville stopped me to ask about his lost toad. Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers. So I can't talk."

"Who is Scabbers?" Kodachi inquired as politely as she could.

"He's Percy's old rat, he is, and he's useless. He hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl for being made prefect, so I got Scabbers. Now where is he?" He started looking around. "He's got to be around here somewhere."

Kodachi bit her tongue. "Uhm, yes, he is. But I'm afraid..." She trailed off, keeping to polite mode was harder to keep up than you'd think. Times like this she wanted to bounce crazily off of rooftops dispensing black rose petals and laughing maniacally. It was safer. You were always sure what your reactions to that would be.

"Go on. Where is he?" Ron prompted, stopping his search to ask.

All eyes tracked to Kodachi, Hermione included.

Hecate took a long sigh and let it out, plunging on ahead. "Well, I am sorry about the toad, but how was I to guess that someone would own a rat?" She patted a second lump in her pet serpent Shirousagi to the accompaniment of wide eyes from the rest of them. "I would like to pay to replace your pet, mister Weasley, if you would give me that chance."

"Cor! Blimey!" Ron stared at the snake. "You mean that thing ate him? Oh, wait a minute. You said you'd buy me a new one, right? Can I have an owl instead?"

The young girl gymnast sighed in relief this time. "Yes, mister Weasley, I should be delighted to buy you an owl for a pet."

"Well, that's alright then." He sat back comfortably, crossing his arms behind his head. "I think a barn owl, or maybe a hoot owl. Actually, what I'd really like is a great horned owl, if that's alright, that is?"

"I should be delighted, mister Weasley." Kodachi repeated. "To get you a great horned owl."

"Oh, call me Ron. Everybody does. You make me feel like my parents or something saying 'mister Weasley' like that. That's what strangers call my dad."

"Look, I don't mean to interrupt," Hermione interrupted. "But...I think you should look at your snake. It's getting wider."

"Wider?!"

All eyes tracked to the serpent in question. It was, indeed, swelling, though the muscles of the snake seemed to be fighting it, and the object in question, the second lump in the snake's gullet, didn't seem all that sure of what it was doing.

Wormtail, for his part, dealt with a situation both complex and confusing, and he wasn't entirely awake due to simple things like crushing pressure and lack of oxygen. It was more a 'this isn't right' feeling of a sleeper only vaguely aware of something like his bedroom catching on fire.

He may die, or he may wake. There's no guarantee of either.

Having passed himself off as his animal form for simply years, Wormtail had become so used to being Scabbers the Rat that he had some very ingrained defenses against resuming his normal form.

Since virtually all he did in rat form was sleep, eat, and occupy space, it wasn't very hard for Kodachi's hungry boa to happen upon him, gently squeeze him from slumber to simple unconsciousness without waking him up and then the tasty snack slid straight down the gullet.

But something about this situation suggested to his oxygen-deprived mind that maybe something was off, and it was growing more serious by the moment. Serious enough, it was coming near to making the mage revert to human form.

Struggling to survive, torpid to begin with, and lazy from all those years of sloth, Wormtail's already-unconscious mind was battling against itself as much as outside pressures.

Shirousagi was in distress and the gathered youths could plainly see it. Fact of the matter was, Wormtail had been swallowed to a rat-length, and now in his unconscious strugglings he was coming close to reverting to full human form.

It was a moment of decision, decided when a blearily half-awake and half-suffocated animagus finally overcame the blockage which he'd previously erected to retain his rat shape.

The result was that the boa's mouth split open and disgorged a rat the size of a small dog into the crowded compartment. Hermione shrieked, Ron stared in disbelief, Harry was wonderstruck and Kodachi amused as the wet-with-digestive-juices critter swiftly elongated and lost hair, reverting in moments to a wretched, naked and slimy man.

Awakening to realize his position, Peter Pettigrew apparated away at once.

Sadly, though no longer asleep he was far from clear-headed, and apparated into the most familiar spot of safety he knew.

I O I O I

It was widely, and truly, reported that you cannot apparate within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, what most students fail to understand and subsequently overlook is how far that protection extends.

It doesn't cover all of Scotland. In point of fact, it doesn't cover all of the front lawn. Teachers were all experienced witches and wizards and they had to be able to come as go as their lives and jobs required. Albus Dumbledore in particular was always being called on by the Ministry of Magic, nor was he the first headmaster so blessed with official attention.

While the blocks and barricades within Hogwarts prevent vast amounts of student mischief, there were several spots within Hogwarts grounds faculty and staff knew of and could walk to where apparation was easy. None were in the sprawling buildings, but if you knew which statue on the grounds or a particular place on the Quiddich field and just what rocks to stand near in the Forbidden Forest, apparation went smoothly indeed.

In times of emergency these could be blocked, or simply guarded, but for normal operation times they meant a faculty member could eat and work at Hogwarts and apparate home in a commute that would make any muggle squirm with envy.

It was not the first institution to pretend something didn't exist for the benefit of the masses while secretly enjoying the same privilege for their own benefit all of the time.

Teachers did not take the train. There was no need. They began somewhere around the week before classes popping in to get things ready, and not infrequently business at home kept them til the last few hours before the students arrived.

Wormtail had spent more time at Hogwarts than anyone who wasn't staff. He knew of one such location just by happy chance.

Unhappily for him, he only knew of it because the teachers used it most often out of all of them, and Albus Dumbledore was just greeting an arriving McGonagall for a new year when Pettigrew appeared between them, naked and dripping digestive slime.

Another BAMPH of displaced air broke the scene, and Snape's voice came sneering. "Peter Pettigrew, well, well. It would seem reports of your demise were somewhat in advance of the facts... Pity."

I O I O I

Arthur and Molly Weasley were a pair of loving parents in a somewhat disorganized home. It was inevitable when mess-causing kids outnumbered cleaning parents and getting those same kids to wash themselves was enough effort on a typical day. So organizing so large an escapade as a Hogwarts trip left the pair of them exhausted.

So exhausted they missed out on the fact that their ten year old daughter spent the entire trip home from the station pouting under a blanket in the back seat, only her red hair spilling out, refusing to respond to Molly's few, tired attempt to cheer her by pointing out the things she could do with her friends now that her brothers were gone - Molly had forgotten for a bit how Ginny's two best friends of long association were both a year older than her and would now be gone at Hogwarts also.

When Mrs. Weasley recalled this she lapsed into embarrassed silence, sure she had made her only daughter's pout worse.

They made the rest of the trip home in a mingled state of awkward and exhausted quiet so bad Ginny didn't stir from her pout even when they pulled up to their home and both her father and mother got out of the car to go inside the house.

Undoubtedly Molly would have gone back to the vehicle bearing treats for her distraught daughter, but a naked and dripping Peter Pettigrew apparated into their house at that moment. Molly and Arthur recognized the former Marauder instantly.

Peter in an increasing panic apparated yet again to that last place he viewed as being safe, or a refuge: The Potter's House in Godric's Hollow.

Unfortunately for him, there was a tour group there for a memorial held in honor of the Potters, the anniversary of their death being just the night before. It was a shocking amount of old friends, including Remus Lupin, who saw the old and supposedly dead confidant of those very people the crowd was there to remember.

The crowd gasped in horrified recognition.

Still sleep fogged, Pettigrew at least knew his frantic apparations were granting more and more attention each time he did it. So he did what next occurred to his reflex to hide, he turned back into a rat...

...right there in front of hundreds of witches and wizards who had focused their entire attention on that supposedly dead 'hero'.

I O I O I

Ronald Weasley had left the compartment with a sealed note, signed with Kodachi's hanko, addressed to Eyelop's Owl Emporium and calling upon a suitably extravagant account (fitting for a Kuno, or a Hecate) in the local branch of Gringott's for a great horned owl with courier training and permanent speed and weatherproofing charms. The boy was beside himself and couldn't be stopped from seeking out his brother Percy to get his owl to send the note before they even got to school.

Hermione had disappeared, off to find Neville and tell him about his toad (and that Kodachi had offered to replace it). Plus she wanted to dive into her books and find out what type of magic could make transforming rat-men. She thought it might be a rodent version of a werewolf, but wasn't sure, and if it was she wanted to know if it was contagious.

Neither Kodachi nor Harry knew what to make of it, so dismissed the topic from their minds in favor of issues they could relate to, and informing each other of their shared family insanities had seemed to fit the bill nicely. Harry had been telling her about being kept in the cupboard under the stairs and Kodachi had been telling him about the deadly traps one had to bypass if one were to use the bath in her home.

It appeared to each of them, the more they said the more they had to be related. No two families could be that mixed up by accident.

As pleasant as that conversation was, it had a sudden interruption in the form of a ten-year old, redheaded ball of energy barreling in their door and slamming it behind her.

"Thank goodness I found you!" Ginny Weasley gasped out, lunging over to sit next to Harry. Her embarrassment was easily forgotten in the scale of difficulty of her current... well, you could call it a prank. The redhead panted to Kodachi, "Please, you've got to let me borrow a robe before we get to Hogwarts. I couldn't get any of my own things before we left. I had to sneak on the train. Please, you wouldn't mind sharing just until my mum can mail me my own, would you?"

Kodachi lifted an eyebrow in sardonic amusement. "Not at all, miss..?"

"Weasley. Ginevra Weasley, but you can call me Ginny."

"Ginny." Miss Hecate nodded sweetly in acceptance before standing up on her seat to open her portable wardrobe above her on the luggage rack. That item held a small roomful of clothes in it. Ginny's arms were soon full of the regulation attire, including panties, which at last had her attention returning to Harry and the girl's blush threatened to consume her.

Kodachi resumed her seat, having closed her luggage. "I'm afraid if you want a training bra I can't help you. I never wear them, myself."

"Oh, that's alright." Ginny desperately pretended Harry didn't exist so she could survive this necessary moment of girl-talk with his sister. "Thank you. Thank you so much! I knew, since Harry was such a hero, that you would be wonderful too! After all, you are his sister. Oh, thank you so much!"

"You aren't supposed to be here, are you?" Harry asked, slightly amused. "I mean, Ron was just talking about having to keep you off the train."

Ginny blushed furiously, looking at Harry and clutching the clothes to her chest. "You've already met my brother Ronald? Fred and George helped me by transfiguring a scrap of paper into a wig I stashed in my parents' car with some pillows. But Percy or Ron would turn me in, I'm sure. You won't tell them?"

"Nah." Harry smiled, getting in on the gag. "I think it's fun."

The door rattled on its lock. "Hey, who locked me out? Harry? Are you in there?" Ron's voice came through the sliding panel.

"Ack! Ron's coming! Hide me!" Ginny pled in a strangled whisper.

"Uuuh." Harry groaned, unable to frame words.

Kodachi raised her voice calmly. "Ronald, I locked the door to change. Do be a dear and wait patiently while I finish."

There was a moment's shocked pause behind the door. "Uh, I don't mean to imply anything, but didn't I just hear Harry's voice just now?" Ron asked, scandalized.

Kodachi didn't bat an eyelash. "Yes, you did. However, while I do not care what my brother sees, you, Ronald Weasley, are not him."

"Uh, sure." Ron's voice came humbled. "I'll just wait out here then."

Kodachi stood up on her seat once again, reaching for her wardrobe trunk, on top of her potions trunk, her books trunk and lying beside her library trunk.

"You aren't going to actually change!" Harry gasped out a strangled whisper.

Miss Hecate looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't?" Kodachi had already released the straps on her dress and it fell to pool down around her feet, leaving her in panties, stockings and a long blouse.

Harry made a strangled noise before clamping both hands over his eyes and desperately retreating to shove himself in the tiniest corner of his bench possible.

"If you are going to shut your eyes our guest should change, too."

"GUEST?!" Ron's strangled voice came from outside the door, before his steps faded to a safe distance.

"Now's your chance, dear." Kodachi cast aside her shirt, informing the redhead currently flaming in embarrassment.

Checking to make sure Harry's eyes were tightly closed and he wasn't peeking or anything, Ginny made for the fastest rush of clothes changing she had ever attempted in her life, and got caught up on awkward bits and had to redo them, burning brighter than her hair as she tried not to think what would happen if Harry suddenly opened his eyes.

"Panties too, dear. You wouldn't want your dorm mates seeing you in an old pair when you change for sleep tonight." Kodachi was now halfway dressed, not ever hurrying, the Japanese lacking what westerners considered a decent amount of body modesty.

Ginny never knew before that it was possible to faint with embarrassment, but she nearly did when Harry's sister commented on her underwear. True, they were old, had a few holes and were a bit worn around the edges. But did she have to say that in front of her BROTHER?!

Harry's nose began to leak a thin trail of blood and Ginny scowled, nearly certain that he had sneaked a peek when she wasn't looking. But she changed her underwear, watching him like a hawk for a repeat performance.

Harry didn't make one, and soon both girls were decently dressed in regulation Hogwarts robes. Kodachi cracked open her potions trunk and showed Ginny a rank of colored vials, saying, "Pick a color, dear."

"For what?" The girl Weasley asked, calming down now the worst was over.

Kodachi blinked. "To change your hair color, of course. Your brother who might betray you is still just outside. Your robes hide quite a bit, and I can give you a mask for your face, but we'll want to hide your voice and hair tonight if you are to get past him. I can make you a drink and you'll be a pleasant soprano..."

Ginny had stabbed a yellow vial and Kodachi proceeded to wash the younger girl's hair, each stroke applying a bit of the dye. The subject of this treatment felt it must be magical because each brush went on cleanly without spill or mess, washing the color from red to blonde.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Harry pled.

Both girls giggled, though Ginny was still blushing. "Of course, brother dear. You never had to close them on my account, you know. As family it is something of a duty to see that our siblings are prepared for their futures. A few glimpses and a bit of advice when needed are the kind of support we ought to be able to expect from each other. But we are both quite well dressed now." Harry cracked his eyes open just in time to hear Kodachi continue. "Now you'll want to change your own attire."

The distressed look on Harry's face was fitting revenge for her own embarrassment, Ginny felt.

Harry, blushing madly, turned his back on them to change his outer clothes only, the girls noted with no small surprise. Apparently he'd decided to wear pants under his robes. How odd.

While he was changing apparel, Kodachi went on working on altering Ginny's appearance. Since receiving her Hogwarts invitation and materials she had been studying, long hours on the plane rides and extra nights in hotel rooms. While some of the material was esoteric and odd to her, potions was just an extension of her already phenomenal knowledge of herbs, admixtures and rare powders. She'd purchased extra reading material and found herself comparable to a third year potions student at least.

In the act of getting a feel for her skill level she had prepared numerous potions, elixirs and so on, partly out of an act of self-preservation (bombs, paralysis powders and poisons could be so much fun, but had to be prepared in advance of a need) or simple curiosity.

Soon she had Ginny's hair blonde, long and braided, curled up in two buns on either side of her head like some princess out of a muggle movie she'd once seen. With a pointed hat on her crown and a mask on her face, make-up, a beauty spot and a bit of blush, Ginny's own family wouldn't recognize her.

And that was the point.

Harry had long since finished changing, it had taken him only seconds. Since then he had sat and watched Ginny's gradual transformation into a strange girl no one could relate to her brothers. The new robes helped somewhat with that, of course.

The former miss Kuno had her basic potion set out and it was the work of a few minutes to mix up a simple voice-changing potion. Then it was time to open the door and wait for Ron to get back.

"So," Harry asked, once he had checked the corridor both ways, finally recovering enough from his near brush with 'death by embarrassment' to talk. "Once you get past this stage, how do you plan to get in to the school? They must have a roster of those they expect to attend, right?"

"Oh, that's easy." Ginny smiled, licking a lollipop she'd brought with her. "My two oldest brothers, Bill and Charlie? They've graduated now so you won't meet them at school, but Bill was Head Boy and both were prefects. They told me all sorts of things about how the school works, and they should know. Anyway, Percy had to write a letter once we'd started saying we were all on the train, including a list of the first years. Charlie says that Professor McGonagall, who reads the names in, should go get the master copy written by a magic pen of who is really expected, but she hasn't done that in dozens of years. She just reads off the list the Prefects send because it's easier than climbing twenty sets of stairs. So I caught my brother's owl before it left and added my name to the list. Easy really. It knows that if it sees me waving it can expect a treat, and it flew right over to the window I was hanging out just as Percy released it."

"Wow." Harry once again grew impressed.

Kodachi loftily smirked with the young girl. "But Ginny dear, how do the teachers know if a student is missing? Surely this McGonagall should do some checking. After all, is that not the point of the prefects sending in a list? To perform a count, or some other safeguard?"

Ginny removed her sucker with an audible 'pop', clearing her mouth to speak. "Oh she just casts a charm for that. The owl drops her the prefects' list and she says a spell over it. Any new students who should be on the list but aren't are written in the air in red, that way they can send out search parties or whatever to find out how they got missing. Older students are expected to be able to notify the school if something goes wrong."

"But the charm doesn't tell if there are too many students, does it?" Harry was catching on. "An ordinary faker wouldn't know how to put his name on that list, but when McGonagall calls attendance you'd be on it. After all, you aren't a missing student, so her spell wouldn't say a thing, would it?"

"That's what Bill and Charlie said." Ginny popped the lollipop back into her mouth and resumed sucking, trying to hide a smile of glee. "The prefects get their own copy of who should be on the train, and they do the checking from that. An extra student would be left off the first list and they'd send a special notice of any person who shouldn't be attending. But that hasn't happened in ages anyway. So no one is looking for it."

The trio shared a grin.

With a sudden blur of motion Hermione barged into the compartment, planting herself down in the spare seat. "Can you really talk to snakes?"

"No. Her snake just talks people-talk." Harry corrected. "Couldn't you hear?"

The Granger girl cocked her head curiously. "What do you mean?"

Harry just shrugged. "I heard her say normal words to it, and it spoke back just the same as you or I could have. Didn't you hear the same?"

Hermione regarded him strangely. "But all I heard were hisses. I was wondering, because a person who can talk to snakes is called a Parselmouth, I just looked it up, and it's among the rarest of all magical gifts. Supposedly only three known Parselmouths have ever attended Hogwarts in all of its long history, and one of those was a Founder."

Ginny was shaking her head. "Magical gifts travel in family bloodlines, and all Parselmouths were dark wizards. Harry couldn't be related to any of them. It's just wrong."

"Harry?" Hermione asked, confused by the turn of conversation. She'd been asking about this Kodachi girl talking to her boa.

"Oh, you haven't met?" Ginny sat up straighter in her chair. "This is Harry Potter, and his sister Hecate Kodachi Potter. I got the middle name right, didn't I?" Ginny turned to ask. "It's ever so hard to say."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she sparkled. "Harry Potter? I read about you! You're in..." The litany of books she was about to recite got cut off by Ron's reappearance in the door.

The youngest Weasley boy gave a look at the compartment full of girls, then Harry, and plainly his mind was on the last things he'd heard from this compartment before he'd left. "Blimey, Harry! You don't mean to say you changed clothes with all those girls? A sister I can sortuv understand, but how did you get the others in on it?"

The redhead gave a wondering look to his friend of short acquaintance. "You sure work fast. I guess that's what being famous does for you, though," he finished with a jealous glance.

I O I O I

Draco Malfoy had received clear instruction from his father (and we all know how he idolizes his father). He was to approach Harry Potter as a Pureblood and an equal in case he could be subverted to the Dark Lord's side.

"After all, the Potter family line could be a great asset," were his father's exact words.

Several older Slytherins were already befriending Draco, and their aid proved invaluable. One of the Slytherin Prefects had overheard that Weasley Prefect talking with one of his mates about Harry's sister, and passed that along to Draco, who'd already owled his father with that bit of information.

Harry's parents had been hiding from the Dark Lord since before he was born. They'd tried concealing his birth from the Death Eaters, obviously with his sister they'd succeeded. That could be vital, tactically. More than one opponent of the Dark Lord had folded when Death Eaters had threatened their family. And if they could be won over then this sister could be married into a pureblood line, maybe even to a scion like Draco.

The young Pureblood wasn't the only one convinced that resistance to the Killing Curse might be a magical gift, and thus inheritable. A strong line of future Malfoys, all immune to the death curse, could dominate the wizarding world for ages.

So he had quite eagerly sought out the Potters, seeking to make friends, and came up on their compartment just in time to overhear Ron's last comments.

Draco proudly insinuated himself, shoving aside the mudblood-loving blood-traitor to get a good look inside. Crabbe and Goyle at his elbows, Draco gave his most ingratiating smile and said something he knew a fellow pureblood would love to hear.

"So, you're already banging these mudblood whores? Good job, Potter." Draco's voice was congratulation tinged with envy as he sneered at the girls. "That's all they're really good for anyway: slaves and toys, or breeding half-bloods. I don't know why they even bother to educate them at all. It's like teaching a mule to fly."

Spotting the one girl with similar features to Harry was trifling easy, as she was the only one in the whole compartment with his black hair. Draco gave her an appraising look before an ingratiating smile. "Hecate Potter? Harry, your sister is a vision of loveliness. May I take her and you aside for a moment? I've got an offer for both of you."

Kodachi's lips twisted into a disapproving frown and with a soft 'BANG!' smoke filled the compartment. Everyone coughed for a few seconds until wind began to clear away the pitch black vapor.

"Thanks for opening the window, sis." Harry breathed in good, sweet air at last. That fog had been nightmarishly thick!

Standing by the open portal, Kodachi smiled softly. "Anything for you, brother dear. Oh, dear. Our guests seem to have left us."

I O I O I

On a tree they had just passed, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy hung by their ankles almost mummified by green silk ribbon. The trio of first year students watched the departing train with wild eyes.

Unfortunately for them, the gags prevented much crying out.

I O I O I

"Good riddance." Ron reentered the compartment, squeezing in on one end blissfully ignorant of the trio's true fate. "His kind give wizards a bad name."

Hermione was scowling. "I'd bet he turns out to be a Slytherin. From what I've read they're all pretty much like that."

Harry was nodding. "That's what Hagrid was telling me: Better a Hufflepuff than a Slytherin. He said there never was a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in that house."

"I'm hoping for Gryffindor. Ravenclaw sounds alright, but Gryffindor definitely seems the best." The Granger girl spouted.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Would Draco act like that? Well, from what I've read it's clear he and his type all see themselves as the nobility of wizard-kind (and they also see wizards as the natural rulers of all muggles, so the nobility of the nobility, or in other words - royalty). So the question becomes instead: would a medieval noble say something like that?

And the answer to that is, unfortunately YES! They often saw debauchery as a privilege of the 'peerage' as they liked to be called, and weren't ashamed about admitting that to small, semi-private audiences like this one - which, if you'll stop to think about it, consists (at least in Draco's mind on initial observation) of a man, a bunch of women he is banging, and another man who'd just commented on that. In essence, a group all 'in on the secret' anyway, so nothing's to be lost by showing that you know it too.

Too bad for him he was mistaken. BADLY mistaken.

Draco is hardly a paragon of good judgment in any case. But he really was winding up for a pitch. It's just that he'd not gotten so far as to say, "But while it's all good fun to seed a few bastards around, you really ought to have a proper pureblood to bear your heir - and I could show you around the right circles and introduce you to the best there are."

After all, a key to entering ANY group is to espouse the same views, and he came upon a situation that led him to believe that Harry was already acting in a way he himself understood, living out a 'pureblood priviledge'.

Oh, and to him, the only women to be taken in groups are those that are individually worthless, so, on the Hogwarts Express, that would automatically mean mudblood whores.

So you see, he really was trying to be friends. He just doesn't have any idea how different his world view is from some others. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Three

by Lionheart

I O I O I

All of the characters present who were indigenous to the series were sorted to Gryffindor by their creator, so it was not surprising they agreed that must be the best house to be in.

Kodachi had been portrayed as willing to give up her station, pride and honor, indeed all of the things she'd cherishing in life for the love of a man who barely tolerated her. It was even less surprising that she adapted herself to the desires of those who'd treated her so kindly.

All through that train ride the cluster of students began to form as friends.

Harry and Kodachi had pretty much given up doubting that they were siblings. Everyone they met seemed to take it for granted. True, most of those they'd talked to initially had been Weasleys, but then there had been that Draco guy and from what everybody said his sort were obsessive about tracing bloodlines.

Of course, everyone on the train had heard the gossip about Harry's sister and had wanted to appear 'in the know' when they greeted them. For all the brouhaha about Harry himself, most of the books and recounts of his legendary encounter with You-Know-Who put very little emphasis on his family. Sure, some mentioned that his parents died in that attack, but they always went on to say he'd been placed with relatives.

A sister was a relative, right?

From the accounts about Harry it was difficult if not impossible to tell if he'd been raised as one sibling out of twelve. Plus, given how many secrets had been kept during those dark days of You-Know-Who's reign of terror you'd have to know the Potters personally to think otherwise. And only a handful of people had been that close, close enough to know better.

After all, there was Harry openly acknowledging this girl as his sister. What was everyone supposed to think?

Hagrid was one of those few who knew Lily and James Potter close enough to know. After all, he'd only pulled one baby out of the fire of their ruined house, hadn't he? If there was another one it would have burnt crisp, like toast, because he hadn't saved it. And if he hadn't, who would have? He'd searched everywhere.

So when the load of students began disembarking from the train and the half-giant heard the sort of gossip they'd been sprouting, he knew sure enough that something was going on. So after guiding the first years to the boats and before he got in he got this girl who was claiming a relation to the Boy Who Lived aside.

"Now look you ere." Hagrid was trying to be stern with the girl, glancing back over the boats' way so he could be sure no one was overhearing anything he had to say before drilling this girl with a glance. "Now I don know what yer up to, but listen close. I was a good friend o the Potters an I know sure as anyone that Arry ain't got no twin. Ye see?"

Kodachi, sheltered from view by the half giant and his massive coat, blushed and shrank in on herself. "I know, sir. You see I only got a letter a couple of months ago, saying that... well, here, let me show you."

She took a stained parchment out of her pocket and handed it over to the giant, who took it in fumbled fingers and read:

"Miss Kuno,

Due to a recent set of difficulties, it seems that your name has been overlooked for some time. While it is now far beyond the normal time for acceptance into our center for learning, it has come to my attention that a certain extra-dimensional establishment occasionally takes up residence within the local mall.

If you would present these letters to the proprietor of one Spells R'Us, you could, if desired easily find a method to reduce your age to the appropriate level and begin studies after all. Otherwise I would not have contacted you.

We would be honored to have another member of the line of Hecate attend. House Slytherin has especially suffered from the lack of your family's firm, if odd, sense of honor.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The scrap of letter ended below that line in some kind of potions burn (it had been in her pocket during a particularly nasty accident while experimenting). But Hagrid knew that signature well enough.

Kodachi looked very small and unimposing as she shrugged. "I'm seventeen, but the potion they gave me reduced me to this age. It wasn't until the train that people were calling me Harry's sister. Everyone seemed to know about it."

She shuffled her feet. "I don't mean to presume, sir. But Harry... loves me. And... I think I love him, too. My... adopted family didn't treat me as much other than an annoyance. I... I want to have a brother I can believe in." Kodachi couldn't believe how much she'd admitted, but it was in defense of her right to be close to Harry.

Lies might have been more comforting, but somehow she saw this person loved Harry too. She wanted him to believe her without deception.

How Hagrid could take that letter's text as proof of her relation to Harry was a mystery that didn't make much sense. But then, it wasn't entirely unprecedented either. This author has sat bewildered as people read directly from a note or book and managed to misquote the text as the exact opposite of what was clearly written within, believe their misinterpretation, and defend it. The rather vague note had no chance of convincing anyone already inclined for or against Kodachi's supposed relationship with Potter that it didn't agree with them.

In truth, it didn't say much of anything about Kodachi or her family, but it had Dumbledore's signature on it, and that meant whatever it said was important to the burly man.

Besides, Hagrid wants to trust people, a side effect of having a wonderful, kind heart, like he does.

A Law of the Ranmaverse came into effect: Namely the one about people jumping to the most improbable conclusions, then rationalizing them. Most often that rule applied to Ranma, but others were not immune to its effects.

The big giant of a man blinked tears from out of his eyes and grabbed the girl in a frantic hug. "I'm so sorry." Hagrid blubbered. "I ne'er meant to doubt ye. Gosh, Lily had Arry when she was twenty two, that ud mean you'd a been born when she was a fifth year. No wonder she gave ye up fer adoption! Her parents were right dead set against anythin like that happenin and there's no way she coulda raised ya at school, and all. Lily and James weren't even that close back then! She musta been worried sick, thinkin ta be a mother an all witout even a husband to elp er!"

Sniffling back tears, Hagrid looked at her, extending his hug to arm's length and smiling kindly. "Yer got yer father's eyes, and is hair too." He ruffled Kodachi's hair affectionately. "But the rest o ya is yer mother."

Hagrid blinked in astonishment. "Blimey! Didn Dumbledore's letter say ya was a Hecate? No wonder Lily was so powerful! Sure, an if I ad that witch's blood in me I'd claim ta be a muggleborn as well! There's an ancestor worth hidin if there ever was one. Now look you ere, Kodachi. You an Arry are good kids. Don't you go listenin ta anyone says otherwise. Yer mum weren't the firs witch got herself knocked up in her mid-school years. Them robes will hide anythin if ye wear em right, an more an one girl got herself in trouble and kept it all secret til she gave the kid away an no one the wiser. You jes keep telling everone that you an Arry are twins, and I'll back ya up to the hilt. Ye got my word on it!"

Releasing Kodachi after another strong hug, Hagrid turned to lead her back to the boats and whispered as they went. "Now, 'Dachi, yer mum ad it right bout not wanting it known she was a Hecate. Slytherin ain't ad an onest witch er wizard in it yet, an iffn they thought ye was a Hecate they'd put ye in there an no mistake. A ouse full o backstabbin snakes, they is. Do like yer mum did an go fer Gryffindor. That is, if ya want ta have friends ye can count on, an all."

He finished with a completely honest face full of friendly concern for her.

Kodachi's world had gone a bit dizzy. This man had known... her mother? And here he was acknowledging her? She resembled her parents? Hmm, that was a better thought than the pair she'd left, who'd raised her in Japan. Actually, a set of penguins would arguably make for better parents than those two. But..?

She had her father's eyes! She skipped merrily to the boats and got in, giggling, next to Harry, Hermione and Ron.

The boat ride was suitably fantastic, and all too quickly over. Soon the entire group was standing at the gates of Hogwarts. Hagrid knocked with thumping booms, and when McGonagall opened the doors, the half-giant gently took her inside and closed the doors behind the two of them.

"Don you worry, McGonagall. I set em straight, I did." Hagrid was speaking softly. "Lily's daughter, one she ad in er fifth year is ere. Got a letter from Dumbledore wit er. She'd ad er age changed, all due ta Dumbledore, so she could fit in. There was talk on the train about it, but I set em right. We're ta make as if she'n Arry are twins, ya see? That way there won't be no talk as could shame er parents."

Eyes twinkling, sure he was doing right by the progeny of his friends, Hagrid smiled at a rather flustered McGonagall as he turned to open the door again. "Ye should see er, McGonagall. She's got James' eyes, an his hair too. But other'n that she's Lily all over."

With that the giant of a man opened the doors again and went off herding his cargo of pupils back together, already drifting from a few seconds without supervision.

I O I O I

Minerva McGonagall was not a woman prone to idle or lazy mistakes, however she did have alot of trust in a man who kept frequent secrets, Albus Dumbledore. She had known James and Lily when they'd gone to school, obviously as she'd enjoyed being their head of house and favorite teacher.

What Hagrid said could have been true. James had almost won Lily early in their fifth year and they'd had some sort of falling out not even their closest friends seemed to understand. An unwanted pregnancy leading to a concealed baby could easily explain that - better than most ideas.

The one time she'd ever dared venture to ask Lily why she'd grown so fond of the boy only to hate him so suddenly she'd only received the answer "Because he's a jerk!" Which was not very informative.

So it could be.

However, she had fallen prey to pranks or misunderstandings before by being too trusting. Hagrid's word alone was one thing, but unsupported she was uncertain how much weight to assign to it. So she watched Dumbledore carefully as she led in the new crop of first years, and when she saw him spot the girl who was supposed to be Harry's sister, beam into a great smile and start nodding, she considered that matter confirmed.

Well, that explained why Lily had been so moody her fifth year. She'd previously thought it must have been studying.

Dumbledore, for his part, was glad to see that Hecate's heir had been able to make the adjustments to her life to properly attend Hogwarts, and began nodding absently as he calculated how this could fit into his plans for revamping House Slytherin. The great smile was in part due to seeing her close to Harry. Apparently they had made each other's acquaintance on the train.

Excellent, excellent.

Professor Sprout caught McGonagall's eye and made a questioning face. The deputy headmistress paused to whisper something quickly in her ear before turning to collect the Sorting Hat and stool. Seeing Sprout had obviously been enlightened by the look on her face, Professor Flitwick nudged her lightly and got whispered the news, and so it passed on down the staff table, skipping Dumbledore who already knew and was lost in his thoughts in any case, on down to Snape, who when he overheard it began to scowl even more terribly at Harry Potter and the girl he'd been informed was his twin sister.

Just like Dumbledore to keep the brat a secret up til now.

Professor McGonagall had progressed, while this was going on, up to where she stood by the Sorting Hat with her attendance scroll, the one in Percy's handwriting (with a spot of scribbling from Ginevra on it) and began to give instructions to the newly arrived First Years.

The roll went by fairly fast, until it ran into a snag toward the end of the 'C's'. Vincent Crabbe was not to be seen. Still, they knew he had been on the train, and it was not the first student in nearly a thousand years to get adventurous and decide to explore the castle 'just a bit' before the Sorting and gotten lost in doing so.

Hagrid and Filch got up from the staff table to go look for the boy, Hagrid muttering soft apologies about having left the flock unsupervised 'jest fer a minute' outside of the main doors, and that was probably around when he'd gotten lost.

One of the Weasley twins sitting at the Gryffindor table made an expectant 'Why hasn't our prank gone off' look to the other, who helplessly shrugged, gestures not missed at the main table.

When they hit Goyle and the pupil in question was not to be found McGonagall knew this was going to be one of those years. Still, it was hardly unusual. It rarely happened that one student ran off alone, more often they did so in small groups, thinking there was safety in numbers. Professor Sprout left the table to make certain they hadn't circled around back and gotten into her greenhouses (which had quite a few dangerous plants no one should go near without instruction), and the Sorting went on.

Dumbledore was inwardly confused (though he feared to show it lest any interpret that as undue concern for the missing students who were probably all fine) when the 'H's' rolled past without a Hecate. But that was fine, she had probably wanted to use her family name, after all. But that comforting thought went away when the 'K's' marched past and no Kuno.

He could see the girl right there, and wondered what the matter was.

Things went calmly on up into the 'M's' when it was discovered young Draco Malfoy was also truant. At this point Professor McGonagall turned around to direct a questioning gaze to a face at the head table, but that woman, one with red hair and a proud bearing, simply gave a confused shrug. Dumbledore took that opportunity to whisper quietly to a ghost that he had motioned near, and that figure nodded, swept around a gaze informing the rest of the specters before they all left the room, presumably to get involved in the search.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself before what was undoubtedly going to be an interesting year, Professor McGonagall read the next name on the list, a second pureblood. "Ranko Malfoy."

Kodachi's eyes narrowed as she saw a redhaired girl spring forward, jumping nearly fifty feet from closer to the back of the room to land gracefully at the front, arcing high over all of their heads as she did so. The pigtail was gone, her red hair flowed freely all of the way down her back to nearly her ankles. She wore makeup and jewelry and a fine, embroidered robe of close to the quality of Kodachi herself's garments; yet it was undoubtedly the same girl, the style was unmistakable, as was the girl's unhappy pout and her breast size. Really, a C cup at age eleven?

Kodachi smirked. The harridan's height was even unchanged. Apparently she'd stopped growing up early on and instead only rounded out. That kind of figure turned to fat so easily over the mature years.

Then she reminded herself that seeing this girl here could only cause dear Tatewaki heartache and so must in itself be a good thing. Nor would she be required to fight her over Ranma, so perhaps a new start was in order. She'd have to see. Then again, an idle prank for revenge or old time's sake could be appropriate. Something gentle and none too dire, like leaving her naked and paralyzed, upside down in this very hall before breakfast one morning could still prove amusing.

Quite unusually, the hat sat a full minute on the girl's long, bouncy hair before calling out, "I need some help on this... Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes?" The ancient headmaster felt quite surprised to be addressed, and had to quit the whispered conversation he'd been having with a returned Sprout to conduct this business with the hat.

"You're the Headmaster, you tell me. This student is perfectly qualified for two Houses... Hmm, maybe even three, though it's a close one. Thankfully I can rule out four, and the third is iffy. But there's just no disqualifying this person from either of two Houses, and she has no preferences of her own either way. What should be done with her?"

Dumbledore blinked. This, he could say honestly, had never happened in his experience either as a student or as a staff member in all of his long years at Hogwarts. Going the path of least resistance, he asked the hat, "What do you suggest?"

"Hmm, going to be that way, are you? Very well, it's not been done in five hundred years, but there you go, it has been done before. So Headmaster Crimshaw's ruling in now put out of use, is it? That's fine, I prefer doing things this way, really. Dual House Student! This one goes in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor!"

"Uh, where do I sit?" The redhaired beauty asked the hat as she lifted it off her wavy locks.

"Pick a table, child. You'll be using them both often enough during your time here." The hat put in a gentle reply. "Ah, I can recall back when this was done all of the time. You'll do well, girl. Just don't forget, you've got two Houses to call your own and live up to. Don't favor either of them over the other and everything will work out. Next!" The hat barked at Minerva McGonagall, who startled rather badly and nearly dropped her scroll, thus missing the hat give out a soft belch with lots of soap bubbles. Dumbledore, deep in his conversation with Sprout, also missed this warning sign.

Fred and George Weasley saw this and gave each other thumbs up.

Things went more or less as usual from that point for a short time on. The Sorting Hat gave an occasional hiccup or belch, which the anxious and highly stressed staff largely missed as concern grew over the missing trio and the search had to be widened, while McGonagall, who was apart from this discussion, had her own worries to be concerned about as she was in charge of class scheduling and what do you do with a student who is supposed to belong to TWO houses?

Her fingers started trembling rather badly when the 'P's' came by and Dual House students went from one to three as the Patil twins also got that Ravenclaw + Gryffindor pairing. The hat gave a long bubble-filled belch at that point, filling that portion of the hall with colorful soap bubbles and looking a little tipsy in its seat. It had to be rescued by the next student from falling off its chair it had begun swaying about so badly.

Pansy Parkinson had been so surprised to get sorted into Ravenclaw earlier.

Dumbledore had gone off to coordinate the search of Hogsmead, where a concerned Hagrid had confessed he'd left the little tykes alone 'jest fer a second, honest!' The others of the staff had gone off to join the search, or were concerned chiefly in counting the remaining students, coming up one too many and starting over in confusion. Students around the hall had begun to look at the broadly grinning George and Fred Weasley, while McGonagall was near the end of her rope wondering if Peter Pettigrew's appearance had anything to do with the trio of disappearing students, and once when she'd paused to relay this concern to the staff table behind her three quarters of the remaining teachers had vanished to various methods of conveying this concern, either to the search party or by flooing the Ministry of Magic. Then, when she had been sure she couldn't get any more out of sorts, before she'd turned back around to face the student tables she was certain she'd been goosed!

Having her panties stuck up her crack by that anonymous grope had been doing nothing good for her concentration from that point, and her eyes were more on the student body searching for culprits or guilty faces than it was on the stable, safe and always predictable Sorting Hat behind her.

"Harry Potter!" She realized she'd sounded angry barking out his name like that and did her best to take the bite out of it with a smile before wincing and throwing her steely gaze back over the hall.

She wasn't going to just give in and adjust her underwear before the whole school! No, she'd wait until she could excuse herself from the staff table during mealtime and do so in privacy.

"Hmm, hic! Washa matta Hairy Pot-tuh?" The hat slurred into the boy's mind as it was put on his head. It nearly fell off to one side, and he had to hold it steady as it seemed likely to slip off at any moment, as if it had no balance at all.

"Nothing. Nothing's the matter with me." The Boy Who Lived replied timidly, uncertain of this unexpected twist.

"Hm, jush wha ah thought, no gutsh." Then it yelled aloud, "Hufflepuff! Schnerk. Hic!" It fell off the stool to land on its side, even though Harry had put it down properly. But no one seemed to notice as the young star ran off to join his table to loud applause.

Students began to look confused as they got off the chair, and once Professor McGonagall had even turned around to wonder what the matter was, but doing so she exposed her vulnerable backside so not only did she get goosed, but her bra strap snapped and broken as well! Now her fronts were hanging unsupported and swaying about so she had to be careful how she moved. She'd almost given one child a blow on the head as she'd whipped about from first receiving that treatment and her breasts flared out, lifting the fabric of her loose robe.

Now she was certain she could feel the seams of her undergarments unraveling before the entire school and was determined to keep her beady eyes on potential pranksters so nothing further happened.

Paying very little attention to the actual Sorting was going to cost her, however.

"Ginevra Weasley." One of the prefects, and also a first year, startled badly when they heard the name, but McGonagall pierced them both with her beady eyes, just daring them to try something. Watch them let her guard down again. Ha! Just because she was friends with the Weasley family didn't mean she was going to take her eye off them for a minute!

"Gr... yffin... slyther... puff." The Hat hiccuped, so inebriated it could no longer pronounce properly. "Wasshername? Oh, riiiight. Gryffin.. Door! Atsh riigh."

Ginny left the hat to puddle on the ground like a used towel while McGonagall ferociously refused to bow to the itch in her butt crack and shouted out "Ronald Weasley" more angrily than intended.

The Sorting Hat didn't even seem to notice when Ron picked it up and put it on his head. "An, Ah... I kno an... anuzer name, too! Slytherin!"

Ron's face paled when he heard this, and trudged miserably over to the correct table, dropping the hat carelessly on the ground behind him. Moments later the last student picked it up and it seemed the hat had gone on to a funky drunk. "Ey! I kno! Asschitent Groundshkeep'r, thatsh a good un."

It then fell off Blaise Zambini's head and began to loudly snore.

I O I O I

"George, my brother and friend, sneaking a couple glasses full of muggle fabric softener to the Sorting Hat was the best prank we ever did."

"Fred, you never said a truer word. It was superb. Now it comes to a huge problem we have to face, however."

"And what problem would that be?"

"How, my dear sibling, are we going to top this prank?"

"Ahh, indeed, that bears cogitating upon." They toasted each other with glasses full of pumpkin juice.

Up at the main table, Professor McGonagall couldn't find her bra anywhere. (Ginny had it, having scooped to pick it up on her way out, after having pranked her teacher's rump with an itch just to get in on her brothers' fun).

The lady teacher was never more glad in her life to see Professor Dumbledore come into the room, trailing most of the Hogwarts staff. "Albus, did everything go alright? Did you find the missing students? Are they unhurt?"

"Yes, yes, they're all fine. Snape is leading a small team from Hogsmead toward them right this moment using 'Point Me' charms. However, I must inquire. The Kodachi girl, did you get everything settled away with her? And with Harry?"

"Yes, of course Albus. They're taken care of, and everyone has been Sorted, though the students did get a bit rowdy toward the end with so many of the teachers missing."

"Understandable, Minerva, perfectly understandable from their point of view. This was a rare opportunity for exercising post-summer mischief before getting down to their studies. We must be tolerant."

"Easy for you to say, Albus." McGonagall took a sip of treacle toffee juice and gave herself another serving of stoat, turning her attention around herself, looking for an opportunity to leave the table and find some time to correct her current undergarment difficulties.

In the background, Nodoka was chatting. "...and our underwear was a bit old and ratty. Just as a woman never wears B-list undies on a date she thinks might end up with said undies being viewed, no self-respecting girl wants some strange elf rifling through her luggage and getting a look at frayed laces or seams that aren't seemly. So we had to buy all new."

"Professor Malfoy," McGonagall smoothly interjected. "Do you think you might look after my duties for a moment? I'm afraid that I must excuse myself on urgent, personal business."

"Of course," the redhaired new teacher nodded.

McGonagall nodded gladly and swiftly left the room.

Dumbledore waited for her to return, but after half an hour concluded that she might not, so he stood and rang his spoon against his glass several times, silencing the hall. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I have some start-of-term announcements to make. First, as you will all note, Professor Quirrel has not rejoined us this year. Over the vacation he took hold of an opportunity to get some field experience in the forests of Albania and came over all dead, so I'm afraid we had to give him the year off. In his place you will find an excellent returning teacher, an old member of our staff, Professor Nodoka Malfoy."

There was some scattered applause.

Dumbledore nodded, encouraging that positive reaction. "Yes, yes. She will be taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts post hopefully for a very long time. And with us, you will find joining our school at the same time, is her daughter Ranko Malfoy, who if I recall correctly has become our first dual-house student in approximately five hundred years. I'll be sure to tell the rest of you what that means as soon as I know myself. I'm afraid this came upon us rather unexpectedly, but we shall overcome our surprise."

His eyes twinkled as he lowered the right hand and raised the left. "Also, joining us this year for the first time is Cologne of the Joketsuzoku - a village of Chinese Amazons. You will find her a strict disciplinarian and a font of useful information. She will be replacing Professor Binns, who has also been belatedly removed from our staff on account of his death, as our History of Magic instructor."

This time the applause were heartfelt from the older students, who'd found Binn's boring lectures intolerable and completely uninformative.

"One final note before you all go to your beds, a colony of screaming, flesh eating ghouls has taken up residence in our basement. Until we get time to clear them out, please go out of your common rooms in groups of no less than four to prevent being messily devoured. That is all."

I O I O I

Before the staff had time to file out their own door on the way to their beds, Percy came up to Professor Dumbledore dragging a girl by her arm, interrupting the teacher's conversation with Nodoka Malfoy in order to shove his kid sister forward. He'd already pulled away her hat and mask, removed the makeup with charms and unspelled the dye on her hair.

Then the prefect started pontificating. "Sir, I don't know if you are aware. But this is my little sister Ginevra. She's still too young to attend Hogwarts but somehow managed to include herself in the Sorting. I'd appreciate it if you could send her home at once, Professor."

Dumbledore began to look serious, separating himself from his earlier discussion with a very grave face. His eyes glanced down, taking in the girl and asking, "Is this true?"

Ginny pulled her arm out of her brother's grasp, having to stomp on his foot to get him to let go. Percy hopped around, holding one foot and looking very undignified. "You prat! You'll be sneezing Bat Bogies for a year when I get through with you! Sorry sir, I don't see how I did anything wrong. I'm already a powerful witch. I can cast spells with my mother's wand better than most of your other first years."

"But are you," the headmaster asked, ignoring the hopping Percy, "still only ten years old?"

"Yes, sir." The girl got downcast.

The prefect had finished massaging his painful instep and set it down, limping over to his kid sister with an eye toward violence before he caught the teachers looking and calmed down. Dumbledore looked very grave indeed. "I am sorry, mister Weasley, but the Sorting is a binding magical ceremony. I am afraid that, having gone through it, your sister is indeed a student of Hogwarts. There is nothing I can do, short of expulsion, to remove her, and she has only the same seven years to finish her studies as the rest of you, so sending her home could only put her behind. I fear it may be quite a struggle for her to keep up as it is. I shall owl your parents at once, of course. I imagine they will want to get her a proper wand, so that Molly can regain hers for keeping house."

With a squeal of glee, Ginny broke free of her brother's attempts to grasp her and sped off toward the backs of the retreating first year Gryffindors.

McGonagall quirked her lips. That one would be a handful, she was sure. Well, the needed business she'd returned here to the Great Hall for concluded, she got up from Albus' other side, and bid goodnight to the other staff members, before catching a glance of the stunned prefect. "Mister Weasley, would you care to pick up the Sorting Hat, which I notice is still lying on the floor, and follow me? We can discuss your family's circumstances on the way to return it to storage."

Numbly, Percy leaned down to grab the hat around the brim, lifting it up. It suddenly ceased snoring and shouted out grumpily, "Slytherin!"

Percy dropped the hat in shock as the markings on his robe turned green and silver.

I O I O I  
Author's Notes:

Okay now, honestly, how many of you are tired of the SAME old Sorting leading to the SAME old tired cliches? Where you probably had to endure the SAME song quoted over again using the Exact Same Words as before! Only three-quarters of those stories will throw Harry in Slytherin as if that would solve all of his problems?

On his first night in school, Harry had a nightmare where he had Quirrel's turban on his head insisting that he get himself resorted into Slytherin. That's not something he'd dream up on his own. So, Tommy-boy at least was convinced that his own plans to destroy Harry Potter would have worked out BETTER if the boy was in that House, surrounded by the children of Tom's old lackeys and cronies. Why does no one ever account for that?

Harry has TWO chief enemies. The Dark Lord Voldemort is one, and surrounding yourself by those who would die for him, and HAVE already killed for him, would not be the wisest of all choices. But the other is the Dark Lord Dumbledore, who ADMITS in the final book, in the King's Cross chapter, to having driven Harry to suicide!!

It was 'for the greater good' you understand.

He does not use those exact words, but That Is What He Says! He admits it to Harry's face. But the boy has been so brainwashed by all that's been done to him so far that not even the guy's own confession that he was a power-hungry bastard, potential murderer of his own sister, attempted dark lord and architect of all of the misery in Harry's life phased the boy in the slightest.

Can you say 'brainwashed?' Sure, I knew you could. Perhaps it had something to do with having had the Headmaster's loyal toady ripping apart the walls of your mind. After all, those sessions were completely unsupervised. Perhaps he didn't ONLY destroy what he found in there to open him up to Voldemort. Who is to say Snape did not also implant suggestions? After all, the most major switch of Harry's character traits, behavior and intelligence during the whole series occurs at about that time.

He goes from Hero to Zero in about nothing flat. But that's not something Snivellus would ever have done to the son of his most hated enemy, would he? No, of course not. After all, he doesn't hold grudges. No, you're being ridiculous. I don't even know why you brought it up. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Four

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Ranko Malfoy, dressed in a tight-fitting ninja outfit, walked into a chamber at the base of a tower, Shampoo at her side dressed the same. Both pulled down their masks, bouncing down the steps and letting the door close behind them as they came into a room that was already occupied.

Ukyo Bones was there, and she smiled at her Ranchan before turning her attention back to the real action. "Ranko-chan," her mother called from the center of a complex diagram in the center of the room. "Don't disturb anything. I spent all last week getting the arithmancy right and double checking everything. The last thing we want is a smudged symbol."

Sparing a rueful, yet resigned, glance to a smashed brass teakettle still bearing the marks of the boulder that had flattened it over on a shelf in the corner, Ranko nodded and put her bag down well short of the magic circle. "I got everything we needed from the greenhouse fine, but I had to smash a lock to get the other ingredients from Snape's private potion stores. He's bound to notice the break in, but an unlocking charm wouldn't work."

"Ah, he remembers." Nodoka mused thoughtfully as she carefully checked her latest drawn symbol. "I was always stealing his potion supplies at school."

"Aiyah! Shampoo no wonder why." The cheerful amazon had put down her own bundle and opened Ranko's, lifting out what looked like half a rhino horn after counting the others. "Seven and a half erumpent horns? Very expensive!"

"I'm a Malfoy, dear. It wasn't the cost. It was that I hated Snape." Nodoka smirked, amused at her antics. "We don't need the half, but I'm glad that you got the seven. That's just barely enough for what I'd planned to do with them. Would you put them over in that cauldron of broth simmering in the corner? That's a good dear."

"Who are they?" Ranko asked of the pair of identical twin girls sitting on the other side of the room, looking more than a little lost and confused, but increasingly willing as they listened to what Cologne was whispering to them. She asked this as she picked out the seven intact horns (grabbing the half for good measure) and went and did her mother's bidding, sliding them into the simmering silver cauldron of orange and yellow polka-dotted potion broth. As she added the horns the potion turned a sudden red, almost as brilliantly colored as her hair.

"When it starts to churn add the dry ingredients I've measured out in that bowl nearby. Then when it starts to bubble fish out those horns again with the tongs, will you? Make sure not to stir anything, that's very important. And they are the Patil twins, the other Dual-House pupils this year. I figured that made them the best candidates to recruit, and we wanted to bring our numbers up to seven anyway. Shampoo, could you be a darling and get me that book by the door? I want to make certain that I've not forgotten anything."

"Mrs Saotome? I'm sorry, Malfoy?" Ukyo blushed. "I think this is ready."

"Oh, good. The occamy eggs have finished dissolving? That's excellent. Go add them to the bowl by Ranko-chan, dear. She can add them along with the powdered ramora scales and other ingredients. I was worried we might have to go on without them. That wouldn't have stopped us, but we'll get better results this way."

"What for we do?" Shampoo asked, proffering the book to Nodoka, who began to check her work against those notes scribbled around the diagrams on the pages.

"Occamy eggs and ramora scales are both highly magical, biological silver, Shampoo dear. There are powdered horns from seven different dragon types in the dry ingredients, among other things. We are performing a transfiguration, although a more controlled and permanent one than you'll likely get out of even the most skilled wand. We are, in essence, brewing a very special magic. Ranko-chan, if you'll look in the cupboard under the cauldron you'll find another seven erumpent horns. I wasn't sure how many Snape would have and wanted to make sure to have enough on hand for us. Go ahead and add them, too. The occamy eggs will make our brew more than strong enough."

"How much are we spending on this potion?" Ukyo asked dubiously, after she'd delivered the dissolved eggs and seen them added as the mix began to churn moments later.

"More than enough to fund Hogwarts school for an entire year. Probably more than enough to run the Ministry of Magic for a year. Almost certainly more than is left of the entire Malfoy fortune - funding dark lords can be so expensive! But the results should be well worth it, Ukyo dear." Nodoka cheerfully replied.

"So that's it?" Ukyo asked, as Ranko carefully watched for bubbling.

"No, Ukyo dear, that's not quite half of it. I am working on the rest."

Cologne had apparently quit her earlier conversation quite satisfied with the results and the twins were completely won over. "Are you sure of everything, Nodoka dear?"

"Yes, quite. Everything has been double and triple checked. It is all in order. We only wait for the horns to be ready." Nodoka closed the book and sent Shampoo away, the teenage amazon extraordinarily careful in not touching the precise chalk marks. No one in the room wore any trailing clothing.

"Aiyah! You certain? Is very big spell we do."

"Do recall that I taught Arithmancy for two years, and Potions for another one, Shampoo dear. I am confident we have everything right."

Ranko carefully watched the cauldron, silver tongs at ready, waiting for the bubbling.

Fourteen and a half erumpent horns was probably more than existed in all of the rest of England at that time. It was certainly among the largest collections in Europe. People had to acquire them in ones and twos, usually. Part of that was that the horns were dangerous and subject to strict regulatory control. Potions masters carefully saved up, as you never knew when another horn would become available. Fortunately they lasted quite a while in normal use, gradually cutting off shavings which would then be carefully powdered for use in magic brews. Actually, it was quite remarkable that Snape had used up half of one, and showed he must make a lot of potions on his own, outside of classes. Apothecaries normally only sold the shavings, as so few people had need of a full horn that it paid better to sell just enough for a handful of uses, and that practice helped to spread a rare resource around for more general availability, especially to students.

The rarity wasn't that the horns were hard to harvest, far from it. No, the animals eagerly killed each other during the mating season. That was the problem. They had a slow birth rate and the herds in Africa numbered very few animals to support a worldwide demand, which ran even higher in Asian markets than it did in the Western ones.

It was staggering to see so many used up in a single event, however.

The first bubble of the scarlet potion popped and Ranko's hand dived in with the tongs flashing too fast to be seen. Each of the fourteen was saved, though the half had sludged apart early and was now stuck to the bottom of the cauldron. Trying to save the bits only got the tongs lodged in the mess and melting, too. Snatching the previous fourteen out had taken less than a second, an amount of time an ordinary quick person could have salvaged one at most - and that was all the recipe assumed could be saved, and cautioned that you might have to repeat the process several times to save one, the window of opportunity was so narrow.

But that failed to account for the legendary hand speed of a world class martial artist.

Sighing that she wouldn't be able to get the last bit, Ranko turned off the heat, grabbed some dragonhide mittens and lifted the melty cauldron to pour off its brilliant red brew into a crystal decanter waiting handy with a funnel already put in. When she put down the empty cauldron both it and the tongs and the remaining mass of scales and eggs and dissolved half a horn and who knows what else had all slagged down into a solid mass of silver in the bottom, the remaining walls half melted, looking oddly deformed for a cauldron.

Glistening with now clear fluid, fourteen erumpent horns lay alongside another on a cloth prepared beforehand, all of them solid silver.

"Cologne, your turn." Nodoka sang merrily, as she eagerly spelled down her inscriptions so nothing could disturb them until they were done.

"Living silver," Cologne breathed reverently as she sashayed up, long blue hair swaying like a flag behind her well proportioned hips. The three hundred year old amazon looked every bit as young and attractive as her granddaughter (or what her granddaughter looked like at sixteen anyway, the girl was now a slender eleven) and bore more than a passing resemblance to her. The young appearing matriarch essayed the amount of material in the horns, picking them up one by one and testing on a weighted scale. "I'd say there's enough to do a sword, a spear head, and a knife for each of us, Nodoka-chan."

"Would prefer bonbori," Shampoo whispered, trying not to intrude.

"Yah, and I'd like a set of spatulas, myself." Ukyo demurred the offered types of weapons.

Cologne chuckled. "Girls, there's no point in being difficult. Shampoo, erumpent horns are special for our purpose because they are magically sharp. They'll pierce anything, hide or metal, and so there's no point in wasting that by making blunt weapons out of them. Ukyo-chan, the cooking tools you're used to don't cut through the grill. These will. Better to save your tools for baking. These are for killing. Besides, there's power in matching sets. That's why we're all going to have the same style of weapons: A Chinese spear, a Japanese katana, and an American Bowie knife."

"Bowie knife?" All three formerly teenaged martial artists asked as one. "What for?"

"Because I used one for years that I got off an American soldier who came to help us fight World War Two, and it's the best all around utility knife I can think of. You can skin an animal, cut bone, saw wood, or fight with one, use it underhand, overhand or thrown and still get by walking the streets carrying it openly in enough places, or concealed when you have to. The three of you, excuse me, five of you will be able to claim them as part of your Potions tool set, since they're silver. And they'll do excellent work for you there, too." Cologne smirked.

"You wouldn't want them for bonbori anyway, Shampoo dear," Nodoka instructed, having finished her spells. "They're too lightweight to make good crushing weapons. For swords and others as we've got planned, however, they are ideal: as light as a feather, but as hard as dragonscale. You could wield them all day without stopping, and while they won't have the weight to crush armor, they'll cut through it quite handily. A muggle by the name of Tolkien handled a shirt made of this once and the Ministry mishandled the Obliviate, so he put it in his books under the made-up name of mithril."

"Don't katanas take years to make?" One of the Patil twins wondered. "I thought you said we'd be done with this tonight."

"I've been a weaponsmith for almost three hundred years, girl. I've outfitted warriors of our tribe through several wars and outfitted dozens of heroines overnight for battles more times than you've got years. I think I can handle this." Cologne grinned, picking up the first horn and a huge, weighty hammer and going over to a softly glowing gold and crystal anvil.

"Cover your ears, dears." Nodoka tossed around a set of pink, frilly earmuffs Ranko had lifted from one of the greenhouses to each of them. They donned them (the twins fumbled them on while the others did so smoothly), and then Cologne began hammering.

She blurred, her arms disappearing from sight. The Chestnuts Roasting Over An Open Fire secret technique was devastating when used with punches in combat, launching hundreds of blows a second, but used with a hammer while smithing, and the metal flowed like water under her ministrations. Ten thousand strikes later she stopped, revealing in her tongs a perfectly shaped, elegantly deadly katana blade, folded over two hundred times and complete with detailed etching of runes onto the blade. The only thing it lacked was a handle to aid in gripping the full tang hilt.

Twenty minutes later the Chinese Amazon had produced the metal bits for every weapon she had named and used up all of the silver horns. They all took off their pink earmuffs and found it remarkable they'd heard nothing when dust had shaken down from the very stones with the noise. Fortunately, they had silencing charms up around the room.

"So we can proceed," Nodoka declared, going over to open a door.

"Not quite, child," Cologne corrected. "We could, of course, but I think the spell will go better if we use complete weapons. And it will only take a moment to put handles on these." The young ancient pulled a unicorn horn out of a barrel of same, positioned it over the hilt of the katana she was still holding, then waved her wand, muttering a complicated spell. For a half second the pearly horn seemed to melt like wax, then a strange impulse seemed to seize it and it spread itself to carefully and intelligently form a grip for the weapon before hardening. She repeated this process enough times so they had usable knives and swords with pearl seeming unicorn horn hilts, then used dragon bone, wing struts specifically, to grant shafts for their spears. "Alright child, you may fetch the guest for this event."

Professor Malfoy nodded and opened the door.

I O I O I

Nodoka opened a door onto a small cell, pulling back the bolts to do so, and sliding the heavy door away so she could enter. The gaps between the sides and bottom of the massive portal had been so flush with the doorjamb you might not even have been able to slide a piece of paper between them.

Looking in over her shoulder it was possible to see a thin black shape that looked like a rope dangling straight from a hook on the ceiling to hover over a wide, extra large cauldron-like object. From the dangling shape dropped a tiny drip of silvery fluid, obviously the last remnants of a flood, as the kettle was full to nearly the brim with a swirl of three pearlescent fluids, one pearly, one rose, and one coal grey so dark it came near to being black.

Nodoka unhooked the paralyzed serpent that was the black, dangling rope-like object and carried the immobilized snake back into the room with the rest of them. She hooked it back to the ceiling in the center of what was an amazing arrangement of diagrams on the floor, and began talking. "As you all know, not so long ago Britain was paralyzed by a dark lord and I fled to another country while the wizarding world here nearly collapsed. For some years they've said he's gone, but as I got hired on a couple of months ago Dumbledore gave me information saying that wasn't so - that he was merely reduced in power. Unfortunately, he told me this after I'd signed a binding contract, essentially tricking me back into this little war, and since things had gone so bad in my adopted country I didn't have another place to take you all."

A well trained student, even in this private setting Padma Patil raised her hand before asking her, "But Ms. Malfoy, you're to be our DADA teacher. Surely, you must have scored really well on this when you were a student. Why did you run?"

"No dear, I failed miserably. Our teacher told us it wasn't important, and I made the mistake of believing her. I think I got a 'Troll' on my DADA grade. Then, shortly after, the war against Voldemort broke out and I found myself nearly helpless. It was not a pleasant experience."

Nodoka took a deep breath before continuing. "Voldemort is not too choosy in how he comes by his supporters, and I was, and am, a skilled Potions Mistress, a Charms expert, and several other things he found valuable - without any idea how to defend myself and in a very exposed position, since my younger brother Lucius, who controls the family's fortunes and was master of the house in which I lived, was one of the dark lord's most ardent Death Eaters. Frankly, I didn't care much either way, but when one of his crueler moments rolled by Voldemort decreed that I was too valuable to lay about the sidelines unclaimed and made Snape vow to recruit me, by Imperius Curse if necessary, but his preferred method was equally hideous. I barely escaped rape and mind control and fled the country without a knut, bearing only my wits and wand and the clothes on my back, and not all of those last ones."

The elegant lady stood still for a moment, collecting herself before continuing on in a softer, contemplative tone. "I fled to Japan where they still practice fighting arts, determined to live outwardly as a muggle while learning all that I could about how to defend myself. I became a student of several martial arts, purchased magical texts on defense to study on my own and even found a tutor. You see before you now the result of determined efforts for twenty years to educate myself on a subject I sadly missed the value of during school, and I'm glad to say that I did not neglect other areas for fear of finding some other weakness catch me off guard again. You see, even living as a muggle I had to support myself, and my only real skill was magic. I'm sure that's how Dumbledore eventually found me, by tracing the potions and brooms and things I put up for sale on the wizarding market to fund my education."

Cologne chuckled, commiseratingly. "Of course he caught you just when your only child was having a crisis and you were looking for options, vulnerable to his offer. But daughter, he was absolutely right when he said there were not three witches in the world who had chosen to educate themselves so highly as you have done."

Nodoka nodded, agreeing, "Thank you, I believe you're right. Anyway, all of that was so you know how seriously I take our situation, so you know why I am doing what we are all about to do." She leveled a gaze at all of them, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "The time to prepare for war is before the fighting has begun. During the last war Voldemort had won. It was a cheap accident that cost him that, snatching defeat out of the jaws of victory, like if he had slipped in the tub and broke his neck. The magical community cannot defend itself any better today, and it may even be weaker than they were before. They have fewer brave people willing to stand up for themselves for one, the last war killed most of them. And the dark lord has never lacked for Death Eaters, nor will he if he returns again - and Dumbledore fears that he will. The only question is when."

The Patil twins were wide-eyed. "So, are we preparing to fight him?" Parvati squeaked in terror. Sure, she was a Dual-Gryffindor, but that was a lot to ask of an eleven year old girl.

"No dear, we are preparing to survive long enough to run. I am not a brave woman. I was a Ravenclaw, not a Gryffindor. But if we have to fight I want to win, and you will find that during a crisis is the wrong time to buy anything at all related to defense. Most of what is good and valuable will have been purchased long before you can get to them, and most of what you will find is junk as cheats and charlatans take advantage of panic buyers. Now you could get a top quality sneakoscope or foe glass for a few galleons easily and anywhere. When the time comes that most people want them you won't find one worth having for sale, unless you have a fortune you're willing to drop on it. Then you'll go for battle robes and find that enough orders have been placed before you that to fill them they'd have to skin every dragon alive, and the Ministry will always grab everything first for their people, and the dark lord's followers will have known this was coming and stocked up beforehand, if they could afford to. Then both sides will try to seize hold of suppliers and you'll never see so much as a glove worth of dragonhide for sale again no matter how much money you have." Nodoka sighed mournfully. "Unless it's a garment with holes from injuries that killed the last wearer."

"This is all about being as prepared as we can be, child." Cologne informed the young girls. "And not only for Voldemort, but I'm afraid the rest of us left some troubles behind that may someday find us again. We'd all rather they didn't, but they are determined and powerful, so it is far from impossible. I'd hate to say how dangerous they are, but if they do succeed in catching us none of us really know what they'd do to us."

"We just know most of us would probably rather die," Ranko spoke quietly, as if to herself, then shuddered violently.

"So, how does this involve the snake?" Padma asked, reassured that her questions were being answered, and they weren't unreasonable ones either.

"Don't you remember? I told you." Cologne smiled softly. "As part of what we are doing here tonight we are going to kill the snake called Nagini, Voldemort's familiar."

"Hey, I'm up for that. You okay with it?" Ranko quipped, looking over to Ukyo.

"No problems, Sugar."

"WHAT?!" The Patil girls squeaked.

"Is no big deal." Shampoo hauled out a bottle of barbecue sauce.

"Put that away Shampoo, we're going to eat its magic powers, not its body." Cologne smiled fondly.

"Now just so you all know," Nodoka began. "This ritual is classified by most as terribly dark, not just a little dark but very. But before you turn me down I believe you should know some of my thinking. The Ministry classifies spells or rituals or devices as dark for several reasons, let me explain them to do. The one most obvious is that they use unpleasant or revolting components, things like rituals that must be performed in a graveyard at midnight, require a severed hand from a murdered thief, a potion drunk from a witch's skull, or so on. I say nothing in defense of them. They are terribly ugly and do I condone their use. Also, the Ministry has decreed those sorts of dark objects are illegal to create, but shops still run a brisk business in selling items they claim to have gotten from other folk who had them from their grandfather's time, while still trying to hide fresh cut marks. Idiocy on the part of the Ministry to allow that loophole, and if any of you see an item of such a sort in anyone's possession, suspect them immediately. They are most likely very dark, but those who really are that evil are not above planting a few items on an innocent victim a time or two to cast doubt on their opponents and create an excuse to hide behind. Should the true guilty parties get caught they'll claim to have had those items planted on them, just like they did to innocent victims. Still, they create those items to use them, so look carefully into anyone who has them, as they are probably very evil. However, some of the milder effects of those dark items I have been able to duplicate without resorting to grotesque ingredients."

"The next sort," Nodoka went on, toying with her loose hair. "Are those that require the baser sorts of feelings to use, or inspire the same, things like amulets of rage that turn those who wear them into berserk warriors able to fight on in spite of deadly injuries. Those are all classified as dark for very good reason, no good has yet come of them. But again, they are all very common among those who thirst after power, as they think that it only gives them advantages that other, nobler sorts of wizards don't have."

Ms. Malfoy sat down to look out over the faces of her daughter, friends, and new recruits. In her face was concern for their opinion of her as she anxiously went on. "The last sort is also obvious to you, those that injure or kill directly. The Killing Curse and all things like it. It is here that I want to pose a question for you to consider, namely: We all agree that to injure a good person is an evil act, but couldn't it also be a good one to hurt an evil man? You'd have to make very sure of what you were doing, of course, but nobody considered it a crime when a one year old boy used a killing curse on Voldemort. We all celebrated, even in Japan and other places. During the last war the Ministry even allowed the Unforgivables to be used on suspected Death Eaters by their Aurors and Hit Wizards. So really, I think what you injure is the measure of how dark one of the spells is. I think the ultimate question is: Are you trying to destroy or prevent destruction?"

She favored the young ones with a concerned gaze. "Do you agree? Because that's really what this is." She waved a hand indicating the suspended serpent. "This animal is a tool of Voldemort's. He has used it many times to inflict death on innocents and enemies alike. If it were a person it would be worthy of a death sentence. We first sought it out because, as its master's familiar, it holds a tiny portion of his power. When Cologne and I had captured it we discovered that it was far more. Voldemort had hidden a severed portion of his own horrible soul in the beast. That made it a tool far more deadly than anyone believed, and explained how it was so hard to capture."

"We used a Brain Burn spell upon the beast, causing all the contents of its mind to fall out of its ears. That is what is in that basin in the other room, all of Voldemort's memories, skills and personality as of the time he'd stored a portion of himself in his snake. Having that could be a powerful advantage to the Light Side, as we hope to be able to convert those to a less dangerous form and use them to track Voldemort's history and predict his future actions, if not destroy him outright. Plus, and this must not be overlooked, we reduced the snake to a moronic level with no apparent intelligence, only autonomous functions. Though for the sake of caution we have also paralyzed, blinded and deafened it."

Nodoka's gaze had steadied somewhat, though it still yearned for support from their faces. "We used a horrible spell, one that has been banned by every country of the International Confederation of Wizards. And the results of what we did were to destroy a tool of evil and make it possible for Light to potentially destroy the worst dark lord in a century. Was what we did bad? We'd never do it casually, yet this creature's past more than warranted death."

Cologne broke in before anyone could answer. "I have found it helpful to say, inside myself when questions like this arose, that I would not harm those that meant no harm to me, and that I would do no more to them than they'd do to me. It leads to fewer mistakes. Sorry, Ranko-chan, my meddling was always for what I'd thought was your own good. But going back to the matter under discussion, Nodoka attempted to stay out of Voldemort's way and yet he would not let her. She nearly fell prey to a horrible fate for nothing she'd done to earn it or deserve such a miserable condition. That removed any 'live and let live' possibility, proved no one could stay neutral and made him an adversary. Then we look at this man's methods, and they are of the blackest sort, favoring murder above all others, and torture for pleasure."

"We don't desire to emulate the man or his followers," Nodoka added. "But surely you can see protecting ourselves from him is going to be as difficult as it is necessary, and doing hurt to him or his many followers is hardly a crime. Destroying his tools is going to be necessary toward defeating, or even evading, him, which is all that I aim to do."

"Why didn't you just kill it? After you'd gotten the memories and stuff, I mean." Ukyo asked.

"We are going to kill it, Ukyo-chan. It's just that we plan on killing it a very special way, one that gains an advantage for us rather than merely hurts our adversary. That is what this whole little get together tonight is about, and why we are warning you beforehand of matters of which you ought to be aware. We'd never planned on leaving it this way." Nodoka touched her sternum in innocent shock.

"So, this 'special way' is some sort of dark ritual? What does it do?" The pretty brown haired chef pressed while her companions listened.

Nodoka's hands went to her lap and clasped together while her head drooped. "The spell is reputed to steal some portion, we cannot tell how much unfortunately, of Voldemort's potential to do magic and add it to our own. The Ministry labeled that ritual a forbidden dark art the same year it was invented, usually there is a ten to twenty year gap even for very dark spells to get a bad enough reputation to be forbidden, so you can tell how frightened they were of it. But what I really think it does is to compare the innate magic potentials of the caster and victim, giving your soul a chance to adopt whichever magical pattern is higher, along with a slight boost from having seen more than one way of doing things so kinks can be fixed. I can't really explain it well, I'm afraid."

"Often there's some kinda major risk of personality infection," Ranko leaned back in her chair to say, revealing that she'd been in on this for some period of time longer than the rest of them. "That's why mom Brain Burned the thing twelve times. One shoulda been enough but she wanted ta be sure an get everything. Then she Obliviated the crap outta it. She put a week inta building an Occlumancy barrier inta these walls before she started, so the snake don't reinfect from the original er nuthin. There ain't nuthin left o that but life force and magic."

Her mother nodded. "I plan to be the filter for the rest of you. If there is any harm in this the inscriptions should terminate the spell immediately, and automatically Obliviate me of the experience to remove the taint. If things go well with me and the Dark Arts detectors don't sound an infection alarm then the rest of this hideously complicated diagram should echo the benefit I receive into the rest of you. I drank a whole cauldron full of potion nicknamed 'Liquid Luck' this evening to prepare for this experience and I don't feel any inclination against going through with it. And I'd tested this batch by going and doing some very risky things under a dose of it. They all turned out fine. I feel this will too."

"You can only do this sort of ritual once," Cologne informed them all. "And you don't exactly get many opportunities like this one. Victims always die, for one, and there aren't that many people who need killing. Then they've got to be so helpless they don't even think to resist - not a problem with this rag doll snake, of course. And there are other problems, but we've solved all of those. This will work, if you are willing. And what we stand to gain is magical potential equal to one of the most powerful mages of this century. It may just be a fragment of soul, but each fragment bears the pattern for the whole thing, so for us the gain should be as great as if we'd gotten Voldemort himself in there."

"He's undoubtedly done this same ritual himself, that man enjoys murder. And whatever he gained from that ritual we won't get a part of. It's all based on the inborn talent of the soul, not whatever boosters they've gotten, and we feel certain he's collected several additions to his native potential, just as we are certain he held great inborn talent to start with." Nodoka felt compelled to add.

"You won't get another chance like this one." Cologne summarized.

"I'm up for it." Ranko stayed almost criminally relaxed.

"Yah, count me in too, Sugar."

"Shampoo too."

Eyes swiveled to the Patil twins.

"What? You expect us to turn down power to equal You-Know-Who? Of course we accept!" Parvati chirruped, echoed quickly by her eager sister, who said, "Strike a blow for Light and get a major power boost into the bargain? You bet!"

"Good." Nodoka nodded, and everyone relaxed.

Soon everyone was arranged, Nodoka in the center of a wide magic circle and the others standing in smaller rings at the ends of a six-pointed star surrounding her. She raised her wand and the three sets of seven nearly identical weapons floated into place, poised in rings to strike at the suspended serpent. "Spears to the heart, swords to the throat, knives to the gut," Nodoka directed the weapons, which flew into patterns around their selected targets. "Slay Evil Swiftly!"

As she spoke those last three words identical inscriptions glowed on those blades, and at the final syllable they plunged in a single motion into Nagini, who perished instantly. A huge pulse of power swept out as they did so, striking Nodoka first, then radiating echoes out to the other participants who all glowed and rose several inches from off the ground, electrical arcs playing across their forms for a brief second before all was over and they fell sprawling back down to the ground, a slight spark here or there on someone's clothes the only sign left that anything had happened, other than ash where the white chalk dust of the inscriptions had burned like flame through the split-second event.

"Nice motto." Ranko grunted from where she could barely move upon the floor. Cologne was out. Three hundred years of close personal acquaintance with her own personal power flows had left this a sudden shock difficult to cope with. Ukyo and the Patils were faring the best of all, being able to move before any of the chi-adepts. Shampoo was next, then Ranko and her mother. Cologne was still frozen in the depths of self-realization when Ms. Malfoy tiredly waved her wand to clean up, erasing any physical traces of that ceremony aside from the cluster of still hovering weapons.

It was close to twenty minutes after the fact that Nodoka replied to her daughter's comment. "Yes, thank you. It was actually the least restricting of the Oaths of Activation for those sorts of weapons I could find, and we needed a holy bent to counteract some of the evil that still may have tainted the ceremony. But we did not pledge to fight constantly, serve anyone, or protect anything (which is always a full time job), only to finish our fights quickly as an ideal where possible. Basically we've promised not to dawdle finishing off what we've chosen to be fights to the death, which is a rule we should be adhering to anyway."

"There is another element," Cologne stirred at last, shaking herself and rising up to her hands and knees, hair falling down to form a curtain around her face. "Your chosen oath inherently suggests we may choose to fight evil more frequently than we might otherwise be inclined, and we'll find it more difficult, I am sure, to let certain people alone."

"So long as it doesn't make us idiots," Nodoka quipped, banishing the weapons back to racks upon their walls.

"No, I'm sure it won't do that. A trifle bloodthirsty perhaps, but not idiots." Cologne chuckled softly in her throat. "You've chosen well, daughter."

"What happens now?" Ukyo asked, taking deep breaths and trying not to think about thin layers of sweat like she'd been exerting heavily or was lightly sick.

Ranko crawled over to a table and reached out for a very special Dark Arts Detector, pulling it down with her to puddle on the floor, checking the reading from somewhere within a pool of limbs. "No sign of personality contamination. Looks like Brain Burning the thing worked out right."

Nodoka lurched over to a counter, finding her balance on the way. "Well dears, our bodies and our spirits have a great deal of adjusting to do, but our minds are not going to be overly busy for I'd say roughly two nights and a day. So I'd thought of something beforehand we could be doing to enhance our chances in this war."

"Such as?" Ukyo queried, thinking that maybe Nodoka was right, as this adjusting thing had left her mind remarkably clear even while her body felt like a lead weight. She could still move, but didn't much want to.

Nodoka's devious smile glittered in spite of leaden limbs. "Something that ought to perturb Voldemort almost as much as losing his familiar."

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Bad guys create stuff. Ancient people long dead created stuff. But nobody in the here-and-now creates anything that isn't A) trivial, or B) evil.

We see a ton of magical artifacts in the Harry Potter series, but no one ever constructs one (well, except for horcruxes, but those don't count).

So, anyway, I thought I'd explore this oft-neglected school of magic. 


	5. Chapter 5

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Five

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Molly was fretting, wringing her hands together in agony, protesting, "But Albus, there's no way that we can afford it! Arthur doesn't make enough to cover everything we need to have right now! We'll be another two months paying off the debts I entered buying Ron's books and things!"

Albus was nodding. "I understand, Molly. I truly do, yet it is the case that Ginevra has been Sorted and become a student of Hogwarts." The old mage caught sight of the flour still on Molly's hands as the housewife wrung them desperately and he broke into a wide smile. "I believe I have an answer, however. For some time this institution has sorely lacked one of the most practical, eminently valuable lessons on everyday spells. Would you be willing, Molly, to join us as an instructor teaching an elective on Household Magic? I can assure you your salary would be generous, probably surpassing Arthur's, and I can envision myself giving you a few months in advance to pay off your debts and acquire scholarly materials for young Ginny. What do you have to say?"

Mrs. Weasley had gone from severely distressed to relief to disbelief, but had stopped wringing her hands. "Do you really mean it, Albus?" At his kind nod, she considered, "Me, a... a teacher? Oh, I don't know what to say. I never thought... Are you sure I can teach them anything?"

Dumbledore rose from his desk, beaming proudly, and came walking around it to pat Molly on the back reassuringly. "My dear former student, they are only children. No one I know is better qualified to deal with a gaggle of them. You've done a fine job on your own little flock, but now they are leaving the nest perhaps it is best for you to have something to do since they are no longer going to be underfoot. I should say you'll make a fine teacher, and you know the subject matter better than I do myself, better than anyone else I know. I'm sure it would be a great benefit to future generations of young witches and wizards if you would pass that store of knowledge on."

Mrs. Weasley was, by now, happily flustered. "Well, Albus, if you think so. And it would be a great help to have the extra income. Why, I could even keep an eye on them while they are here at school! Fred and George get into so much mischief, you see, well you'd know that as well as anyone, I suppose. But it would reassure me to see them more often. Yes, Albus, I'll take the post!"

"Excellent, excellent." Dumbledore nodded gladly, going back to scratch some writing on a parchment with a quill. "I believe that I shall allow the first week for you to get coursework and textbooks selected. Meanwhile I will ask Minerva to see to it that signups are made available to the students in their common rooms so that you'll have someone to teach, and to subtly encourage attendance so you do not fall below other, more established electives in your course sizes."

There came a knock at the door and Minerva McGonagall entered without being asked, looking flustered. "Albus... Oh, hello Molly I'm glad you're here this concerns you too. I don't know if Albus told you but your son Percy just got resorted from Gryffindor to Slytherin."

From Molly's sputtering in shock she obviously hadn't been told.

Minerva sat down heavily in a chair. "It's devastated the boy, Molly. He can't be allowed to remain a Gryffindor Prefect in Slytherin! And the Slytherin Prefects are already chosen long ago, so unless one of those does something to lose a badge he's lost his special status."

"How... why did he choose to get resorted?" Molly stumbled out, falling into a chair herself.

Minerva shook her head. "All he did was touch the Sorting Hat, Molly! Something must have really changed in that boy for him to be so different from the little Gryffindor we got years ago. Honestly, I wonder why I didn't see his naked ambition before. He was at least twice as upset over losing his prefect status as he was over no longer being a Gryffindor! If he were to return to my House this instant I don't know that I could trust him with a badge. I think I'd give it instead to that Tofu fellow."

Molly's face set itself in stern, motherly disapproval.

"You should probably do so, Minerva." Albus moved to pour them all some tea. "As it stands your House is missing one of its prefects. Another should be appointed, and that young Tofu fellow is an excellent choice. Now that all that is taken care of, we have rather a long night together as there is a great deal to discuss, I'm afraid. Minerva, Molly has just been hired to teach a new elective course at Hogwarts. She is to be our Housekeeping Magic Professor."

McGonagall's face transformed to joy and she hugged the younger woman. "Oh, Molly! Congratulations! Welcome to our staff!"

"Now then," Dumbledore continued. "We should probably inform our new teacher what her career entails, and how best she should prepare for those duties. Something that is bound to take all night and well into the morning, I'm afraid. You do not have the usual summer period to build up to this, my dear."

Above them on a shelf, unnoticed, the Sorting Hat softly hiccuped in its sleep, sending out a small spray of soap bubbles.

I O I O I

Nodoka had pulled out of her cabinet seven cold iron torch scones wrought into fanciful and probably magical shapes framing the functional, if heavy devices. Into the cup of each she poured a vial full of powder, which stayed stuck in the bottom of the bowls as if magnetized and glued down.

Passing these out along with a like number of sealed, brown wicker baskets with doors in their sides, she gave instructions and divided them up into teams, sending Ranko and Ukyo to the Gryffindor common room (Ranko to lead, Ukyo to learn where it was), Cologne and Shampoo to the Ravenclaw suite (Once again, Cologne to lead, Shampoo to learn) and herself took the Patil twins with her to visit the Hufflepuff dorms.

"We are fortunate no one typically stays up past curfew the first night," Nodoka told her charges as they opened the concealed portal and she had them light their torches, which all blazed up with electric blue flames. Once they were burning brightly, she had them open their wicker cages and almost instantly curious pixies poked their heads out, found the light and scent of their torches, and fell into a kind of daze. The little monsters buzzed out like bees to honey, and the Patils were stunned at how many dozens had been held in their little basket cages.

"Pixie dears, heed my cry. Within winks many a weary eye. Find them all, safe and sound. Guide them all to sleep profound. Once they rest safe and tight, see they walk out to the night. Follow me to dreams and rest, where are skills enhanced to best." Nodoka chanted.

A flying tide of tiny, electric blue bodies flooded into the Hufflepuff common room and from thence into every nook and bedroom. Some rare few they found awake, but pixie magic was enough to induce sleep even before being noticed in most cases. The rest the pixies enspelled during their slumber and soon every Hufflepuff was sleepwalking down stairs and out of doors to form a walking line behind Nodoka and the Patils as the professor led them all through the castle out onto the grounds toward a ravine just short of the Forbidden Forest. Along the way they joined up with similar streams of somnambulant pupils coming from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms, until they had three Houses following the seven figures across the lawn.

"Professor Malfoy, do you know the way to the Slytherin common room?" Padma whispered during one part of the quiet march.

"Of course I do. Teachers have to know those things. But why do you ask?" The redhaired Malfoy blinked in surprise to hear that question asked.

"Well, aren't we going there next?"

"No, dear. We shall not."

"But why? Aren't they students too? Didn't you say that we are going to do something marvelous for everyone?"

Nodoka opened an old drain grating and directed Cologne to lead the procession in while she thought how to answer Padma's question. Ukyo and Ranko stood by, listening on. The pixies helped shepherd the sleepwalkers every step of the way as they passed by. A steady tide of students from every year, in all sorts of slumberwear, streamed past while she was thinking, before she found the words.

"Dear, during the last war so many Slytherins swelled Voldemort's ranks that if any other House gave him recruits it wasn't obvious. Now, as their Head of House, Snape is their role model. He was and is a murderer many times over, and at least once tried rape. Since he remains unpunished for his crimes and still has power he is, in many ways, the ideal Death Eater. Since Dumbledore does not punish him for his bullying he clearly and obviously gets away with it in the students' eyes, every day flaunting the fact that authority is unable to stop him; and that makes him look strong and admirable to his little flock, who look up to him and want to be Death Eaters like him so they can be strong and get away with things too. Or at least some of them think so, far too many really. Granted both those facts, until it can be proved otherwise on an individual basis, all Slytherins are young Death Eaters just waiting to prove themselves to the dark lord and eager to take his mark as far as we are concerned. It's just too great a risk to think otherwise."

The Patil girls went silent, processing this. It was unusual and strange to think in terms of having enemies and things, or at least people who you couldn't trust or help because they might hurt you. Some of the seriousness of their situation began to sink in.

"Where are we going?" Parvati asked eventually, just to break the silence.

Ranko's mother was glad to get off onto another topic. "Well, Quirrel died the first day of the summer break, and Dumbledore hired me not long after," Nodoka told those girls. "That first week he let spill how dangerous a spot this was, with the dark lord still around somewhere and many of his Death Eaters still walking free. From that time to this I have been frantically preparing as best I can to survive the next war. One thing I did was put some heavy study and research into this castle, which is one likely battleground for the future war. I do like to have an advantage by being intimately familiar with my home ground, you know. It's a wise precaution to have in any case, but in this instance even more vital because Voldemort had studied this castle for years and knew some of its intimate secrets. That made it HIS home ground and I had to make up to counter that advantage so I wasn't in a weakened position."

The girls made themselves comfortable as students from every year filed past, getting on to the tail end of the line. "Anyway, once Cologne arrived she was able to share some of her insights. She'd grown up hearing marvelous tales from her elders about the magical school called Hogwarts, and was quite surprised to discover when she got here that we'd lost track of all of those marvelous wonders. They'd been sealed by Oliver Cromwell three hundred years ago and we'd apparently forgotten them entirely."

"What she's leadin up to is that we found this place called a Pool o Stars." Ranko said over crossed arms. "An from that we've been sorta startin ta find other stuff, like a Vault o History an a Riding Barn. Mom's made us hold off on usin' 'em, sure that Dumbledore would notice, an seeing as how we were the only kids at school it would be kinda obvious that we'd come on somethin special. An we didn't want ta reveal that we'd found these things, sure that he'd force us ta use 'em on the whole school."

"Aren't we doing that?" Ukyo questioned.

"No, dear." Nodoka wearily shook her head, tiredness shaking her limbs. "You'll note the absence of House Slytherin, which is part of the point my daughter was getting to. My plan is to hurt Voldemort as much as possible. These devices we've uncovered are supposed to grant enormous skill, bestowing inherent understanding of a subject matter overnight. That benefit could be vital during our next war. Since everyone but Slytherin should have it, that makes the most likely followers of Voldemort comparatively weak, and those who are most likely to resist him stronger in potential than even his current crop of Death Eaters."

Shampoo arrived, leading a sleepwalking Hagrid, who joined the line. "Assistant to Hagrid have too too many dark objects, so no bring. Ukyo, whole war is really about weak versus strong. Dead Munchies feel they strong, so should rule. Others disagree, much fighting and dying. New crop of Dead Munchies grow up, feel too too weak next to other students. Not feel strong, so no act strong. No have courage to join Moldyshorts for fear they lose."

"Moldyshorts?" Several voices repeated Shampoo's phrase. Mother and daughter Malfoy grinned terribly. "I like the sound of that, and may use it from now on." Nodoka mused.

Ranko goggled suddenly as she saw and recognized Kodachi as she walked past in a rose embroidered nightgown.

I O I O I

Hogwarts had long been touted as the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world.

Why?

Teachers of that mighty institution ranged from competent (a few) to mediocre (most) down to positively dismal (quite a lot, really). Their instructional facilities were unimpressive - while magical feasts and corridors abounded, few actually helped in any degree to teach anything. And, when all was said and done, their students were not selected very carefully to be of outstanding scholarly material.

The names of Crabbe and Goyle came to mind. But for a prestigious institution of learning... they were not the only ones who'd fail to meet entry requirements of Oxford or Cambridge or similarly thought-of schools. The average quality of the Hogwarts student body did not shed overwhelming glory upon the academy they attended.

So why?

How did it come to be known so far and wide and unquestioned that Hogwarts was the best?

Simply put, because reputation sometimes stands even after the glory has faded (often because potential challengers have faded as well). Before Cromwell's rule, Hogwarts had obtained lavish facilities, excellent instructors, and could command the best available of a much larger pool of prospective students. That image of glory remained even as the actual truth of the matter faded to more of a run-down, neighborhood has-been of a school.

But those glory days had been great.

Those days had come to an end in the seventeenth century when the Puritans had come to power. Before that, the wizarding world had abided by the Oath of Discretion, which was 'go ahead and do magic, just don't be too obvious about it and we'll trust our neighbors to turn a blind eye'. But Oliver Cromwell spent so much of his time and energy stamping the magical population out, that was when they switched from the Oath of Discretion over to the Statute of Secrecy, which boiled down to fully hiding all of their magic all of the time.

It was an extreme measure that arose during an extreme time, trying to ensure the survival of their race. Most of the all-magical towns and villages were burned during that period so that only Hogsmead was left, and that had to be abandoned for a time when Hogwarts itself was driven underground.

Cromwell had been able to accomplish all of this because he'd been the legitimate head of state at the time, using the powers and authority of government to close down and seal off treasures of the magical community, including portions of Hogwarts itself; things like the original dueling and DADA classroom used up until that period. The Crown expanded it substantially during the War of The Roses, so it got renamed the Rose Tower, but Oliver Cromwell had it closed and sealed off when the Protestants took control after Charles the First was beheaded.

That had been the last time the magical community had dared trust a muggle ruler.

The Pool of Stars was one such wonder long since sealed away. Today's student body had to labor at nights once a week for at least five years to obtain their knowledge of that vital magical subject of Astronomy. The charting and courses of stars and heavenly objects was of prime importance, enough to still rank among a witch or wizards core subjects, for the simple reason that a great many spells or rituals depended upon certain heavenly bodies being in the right place, or you simply couldn't do them right. Others required adaptation to accommodate whatever positions the stars were in at the time of casting. Dangers abounded if you did not plot their positions correctly, and terrible things could go wrong over a casual error. Practically all high and mid level spellcasting depended on at least some awareness of this, rendering Astronomy of importance enough to make it a core magical subject.

Now, the wonders of heavenly bodies explored most fervently on the Astronomy Tower were more on the order of students studying each other in moments of stolen privacy.

The Pool of Stars, on the other hand, was a marvelous teaching tool unrivaled in today's wizarding community. It had cost a great deal of expense from a much larger, healthier and wealthier magical society to create, and repaid that effort handsomely over generations of young magical children emerging from Hogwarts with unparalleled understanding of the patterns and movements of the stars. And, by association, Hogwarts pupils always knew what time it was, as the star knowledge gave them a built in clock and calender by default as an added bonus. So they rarely got confused about what they ought to be attending.

That pool alone had contributed a large share to Hogwarts' widespread reputation, and all it did was to set an... instinct was a good word for it, into the minds of those who bathed there for a night. The school once had a tradition of first years spending their initial night after arrival in that pool, seated upon submerged benches, eating from floating trays, listening to grand stories told by their future instructors, all of that to pass away the time while the magical waterbasin worked its wonder upon them. When they emerged, those students each had a full motion, realtime starmap in their heads, complete with fast forward and rewind, plus reset to current. The enlightened youths could feel the position of the stars much like they felt their fingers, and could without distraction or error plot their course into either the future or past as easily as they could set about demolishing a feast.

A staggering achievement in magical education. One might just as easily wish that muggle schools could implant a calculator into their pupils for handling mathematics. An entire basic, fundamental subject was not only covered completely in that opening ceremony, but new ones became open for immediate instruction once that foundation was laid.

Such a feature was deserving of worldwide attention for a magical institution. All of the time rival schools spent for that same basic knowledge to be taught, Hogwarts pupils could be covering additional material, and with greater competence and fewer errors in underlying calculations. Most mid and high level spells could be taught early with that kind of foundation already laid.

Then the planetarium containing the Pool of Stars got sealed and the Hogwarts Headmaster of the day had to start an Astronomy program, hiring an instructor and setting aside one of the towers to teach it.

Now, those same higher difficulty spells rarely got taught at all, as so few pupils aspired to obtain the foundation principles solidly enough to master them that they could acquire the knowledge of those spells on their own without classes devoted to them.

Nor was that the only supremely special feature of Hogwarts in her heyday. Today's large mechanical clocktower was a recent addition, and hardly as special as the feature it replaced. There was a room sealed up in Hogwarts laid out as a giant sundial whose pillars matched those of Stonehenge save for the fact that instead of large slabs of rock they were slender, yet immense hourglasses whose sand ran continuously and magically downwards without ever reducing the top or overfilling the bottom. That room was not for the telling of time, except in the remotest sense. No, instead it served a matching purpose to the Pool of Stars. It was the Vault of History.

Pupils availed themselves of stone benches and books to study and pass the time for a period between dawn and dusk, obtaining benefit they did nothing to deserve and all out of proportion to their efforts. As with the Pool of Stars all students had to do was remain in the chamber for a short period of time and it would impart to them a sense of how vast a scope of history lay behind them, by implanting an inherent understanding of some of what had passed before, along with relevant details, vast interconnections and recollection of past peoples and events almost as keen as if students had lived among them for a short time.

Of course by today's standards that knowledge imparted by studying a day in that Vault was dated, out of fashion, and remote at best, so hardly ever taught in any great detail. A shame because it was among the most relevant periods in the development of modern European society.

As the records of history recorded in the Vault to be implanted into students were at least three hundred years old it properly ought to be called Ancient History, as obviously it failed to cover the period of separation of magical and muggle worlds - seeing as how it got sealed at the start of that transition. Before then the histories of muggles and mages were closely linked and hardly separate at all, though of course having a magical perspective gave them an entirely different depth and flavor to what got taught in muggle schools.

However, it was interesting to note that the Vault had recorded many details of past eras that had gotten lost to both muggles and mages over the past three hundred years. For a true student of history it was a treasure without equal.

It has been truly said that no one knows where they are or where they are going unless they know where they've been. Another great quote was that those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it; Things like wars and the collapses of civilizations.

It had been hoped that by building the Vault of History, Hogwarts students would be able to climb on the successes of their forbearers without repeating their mistakes. Sadly, it was hardly a year into operation before Cromwell sealed it up, denying wizards a chance to halt their decline by outsmarting the cycles of time.

The Vault of History was the last such marvelous device completed.

Of course, a certain silliness had always existed in wizard culture, then and now. And while the Vault was the last, and the Pool the first, a third had been invented and installed in those great halls and had been in operation almost as long as the Pool of Stars. One of the era's potent sponsors of Hogwarts, a pureblood proud of his alma matter, had paid for a similar teaching device devoted to the instruction of students in the fine art of riding horses, as a need for well-trained cavalry would always be with them - or so he'd thought.

Fortunately, those enchanters hired to create the device had seen that dragon cavalry had always before then been the wizarding community's main force of battle, along with winged horses, hippogriffs, griffins, giant birds, and a plethora of sea mounts as were available then acting as useful second rank troops or specialized auxiliaries to the commanding nobility of the war dragons. So they included competence in handling all of those mounts, at their own expense, along with the elite horsemanship the wealthy pureblood sponsor had paid for. As the essential abilities were quite similar and they had the experts on hand, this could be done for a tiny fraction of the full expense and included as an extra.

While not as sublime in importance as Astronomy or History, graduates of Hogwarts rode instead of walked wherever they went, and that too gave some element of mystery adding to their school's worldwide reputation.

Wizards of Britain for a long time rode horses only among the poorest strata of their ranks, much like muggle peasants walked everywhere only because they had no better way to get them there. The training of Hogwarts meant that all wizards could ride, and the lowest of them back then could still transfigure a horse out of mice or rabbits. Those more skilled were wealthier and could afford better, so got more outstanding mounts than horses.

Dragon riders were few and elite in magical societies, primarily from the difficulty in training them properly, the time and expense as well as dangerous accidents that could occur early on before a trainee grew competent. Britain could have been a growing force in world affairs if they had used that resource, as Hogwarts' new feature allowed them to skip the worst of those problems. But it was a thought a hundred years percolating, and then before they put that into operation, acquiring dragons and accelerating their training, came the Puritans.

Cromwell had ended all of that because he rightly feared dragon-mounted wizards, so he sealed away the Riding Barn, filled with bunks and pillows and with ceremonies much like that one surrounding the Pool of Stars. Undercut, with most of their best instructors dead, and a flying dragon leading legions of soldiers to your door, the concept of dragon cavalry had dwindled until private ownership of those beasts was finally deemed too dangerous by the Ministry, and outlawed. The two causes named for that ban were the great difficulty in keeping such great animals a secret, which was sadly true, and the many accidents associated with their handling, which the competence imparted by a night slept in the magic Barn would largely have negated.

Though many more had been planned, some even researched, those were the only trio of magic devices granting inherent understanding of a subject matter ever created at Hogwarts, and no others had been built in all the world. So they became something of a lost wonder, all but forgotten where once they'd been taken for granted.

And yet the program of creating items for magical instruction had not ever been intended to stop with the Vault of History.

Basic alchemy had been the next, great unfinished device, with some parts already paid for and assembled. Another planned, already researched yet unassembled device had been music. Since the creation of such a wonder often killed the master having his skills duplicated into it, their construction was far from guaranteed, however, even if they could otherwise be found and completed.

Losing such teaching resources was in some ways worse than never having had them, as you had to rediscover how to impart subjects to your students. It didn't help in the least that later upheavals prevented much of a rebound. More than one Goblin Rebellion occurred in Britain as those creatures felt they stood a greater chance of victory against the weakened wizards. Many experts were lost in that fighting. During the French Revolution more witches and wizards died than aristocrats, and Beubaxtons got burned to the ground, only to later be rebuilt afresh in secrecy. That tumult was followed by Napoleon marching the length and breadth of Europe. Countries called out their magical forces to defend alongside muggle armies, and those drafted wizards most often did not return home.

The magical schools of Austria, Germany, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Russia and Poland all got sacked by Frenchmen led by French wizards seeking magical equipment and tomes to replace those lost at the burning of Beubaxtons. The wars grew deadly and ugly and fierce for magical communities fighting to retain the best tools and knowledge for future education, and only France came out victorious. Bulgaria hid their school in silence, accepting refugees from war-torn magical communities and secretly building defenses against possible attacks by the French.

Germany did eventually rebuild their school, only to lose it once more to Allies fighting off Grindewald in World War II. High altitude bombers flown by magical guidance bombed that academy into ruin, from which secret treaties still forbade it be recovered.

Some part of this contributed, no doubt, to Hogwarts keeping its 'best magical school' title in spite of their own protracted slump, as competition had largely been eliminated.

One might even say, with some accuracy, that the Golden Age of Wizardry had ended, and one of the first blows of that fall was dealt by Oliver Cromwell purging England of the magical communities.

I O I O I

In some ways using those ancient teaching devices was easy. All you had to do was get the students in them to spend some time. Doing that in perfect secrecy, however, was tough.

By sleepwalking the students and using pixies to herd them (which the pixies loved as it seemed like the greatest prank to them, and they were under magical control anyway so errors were less) it was possible to get them there unawares. Keeping them or moving them from one device to another was simplicity itself using those same methods.

But how to return them so no one knew you'd stolen three quarters of the school for about thirty two hours? Ah, now that was more difficult.

On deciding she had to do this, Nodoka had prepared a giant magic circle in one of those abandoned rooms in the sealed sections of the castle. It was just large enough for what they'd intended to do. So they'd gathered their stolen students (and Hagrid, Shampoo was not the only one with a soft spot for him among their group) onto the circle, divided the flock into five equal groups, took out the five Time Turners they had acquired and spread the chains over every throat. Cologne and Nodoka cast the most powerful boosting charms they could manage, then they gave the magical hourglasses thirty two backward turns.

It worked. The combination of those boosting charms and the magic circle made it work, the once. But all of their Time Turners exploded in harmless displays of glass and dust after the crowd arrived. Still, they got the students back to bed quickly. Just as their previous selves were walking out one end of the castle, they led them back in another, got them back to their rooms and tucked in with no one the wiser.

Then they had leisure to worry about it.

Leaving the others to put their pixies away, Cologne got dressed up in stealth attire and went off on a mission to the Ministry to break into the Department of Mysteries to acquire replacements for their Time Turners, and perhaps a few extras just in case of future accident. Once the pixies were packed away, Nodoka sent the other girls off to bed for a well earned rest and set off to lead a slumbering Hagrid back off to his hut.

Arriving without incident, she eyed the extension to his cottage fondly, then tucked the big man in, couldn't resist giving the big infant a kiss goodnight on his cheek, then slipped out. As she did so, however, she spotted a unicorn that had come to the edge of the forest. Using a quick summoning spell and then a placement charm she put a golden bridle on the animal and led the now docile creature back to her lab, humming merrily under her breath.

Nodoka sighed in relief as she brought the unicorn around, using the golden reigns, to where the magnificent animal could breathe heavily on her racks of silver weapons. Then she heard the tower door open and her blood ran chill as she recognized the Headmaster' jovial tone.

"Aha! I thought I'd detected a major ritual of the Dark Arts taking place this evening. But this was the first time that I could get away from McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley." Dumbledore walked spryly down her steps, his phoenix on his shoulder as he took in everything. "And I see that you have acted quite responsibly in erasing all traces. Very good of you, Nodoka, we would not wish to alarm the students or excite certain members of our staff. And you are purifying the taint out of this room and those weapons with unicorn breath, a most excellent idea. But if I might offer Fawkes here? One might get suitable results out of a magic device purified by unicorn breath or phoenix tears, but I've found the combination to be far more effective, and in the end the devices are more potent."

Nodoka released the reins to step back, away from the silver implements of death, and waved a wand to spell them all down to the counter top. Dumbledore gladly lifted his arm and Fawkes flew over to begin crying over the armaments while the unicorn breathed on them. As they did so, the implements glowed softly white, levitating a couple of inches.

Dumbledore smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Indeed, I do not believe that I have ever seen a more potent weapon. To behold seven sets of three at once is most disquieting, as it would have required an echo circle I am not sure that our dear Professor Vector could have inscribed properly. I do not suppose you would do me the courtesy of informing me who died in your little ritual? Especially as anyone so powerful is bound to be missed soon and questions raised?"

Nodoka lifted her chin. "I see no reason to conceal it from you, Headmaster. When you told me Voldemort was not dead I went looking for Nagini, knowing full well that a certain residual magic exists in the familiar of a powerful wizard, and intending to steal that."

"No one could begrudge it to you." Dumbledore was nodding. "But these were not created using the power flash out of a mere familiar, even Voldemort's."

"Of course," she admitted freely. "However, upon successfully capturing the snake I learned that it had a soul fragment of Voldemort's bound to it. I brain burned it to avoid contamination and that is what died tonight."

Albus' face had gone grave indeed, and did not lift in the slightest as she showed him the Dark Arts Detector still showing that no personality transfer was made. Soon he explained, "Nodoka, I happened to glance at one of my monitoring devices before excusing myself to come down, and Voldemort still lives. Yet you say that you have just destroyed what could only have been a Horcrux. I suspected he might have used one, but to learn that was true, yet its loss did not destroy him as it should, puzzles me greatly. And I do not like the line of conjecture this puzzle has called up. Indeed, I find it most disturbing."

Still riding on the boost from her liquid luck, after all she had drunk a cauldron full, Ms Malfoy suddenly asked him, "If you fear him so why have you done so little about it?"

Dumbledore shook himself out of his daze. "I have already put countless days into research on Voldemort, Professor Malfoy. Yet new puzzles are forming all of the time. I would enjoy describing them to you, but now is not the appropriate moment. I do not have a great deal of time before I must return to instructing Molly on how to be a teacher, and wish to check to see if Severus has returned." He moved back toward the door. "Do try to refrain from major dark rituals in the future, Professor Malfoy. It would be a pity to lose our twentieth Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in a row."

The door slammed before his face. Nodoka cracked her knuckles while she innocently asked him, "Would you care to elaborate on that statement, Dumbledore?"

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

This story, originally posted in parallel with another, did not actually have any information on the specifics of the amazing learning devices I proposed Hogwarts once had. The two fics were published on the same site at the same time, and I felt that reprinting the information in both of them was redundant.

Now, however, it is not. 


	6. Chapter 6

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Six

by Lionheart

I O I O I

"Severus, we have waited up the entire night for you. What happened?" Dumbledore came down with Molly and McGonagall to greet the newly arriving Potions Master.

Snape looked awful. His greasy hair had twigs and leaves still in it, the robes he had on were messy and had tears and bits of dirt smudged on them, and his scowl was even worse than ordinary as he shepherded in three exhausted eleven year olds.

For a moment it looked as if Snape was too angry to reply, but he cracked open his mouth and sneered. "Everything, Albus. We started out from Hogsmead thinking they could not be far, and four hours later out onto the trail we discovered they were. Apparating back to Hogsmead, we flooed over to London, spent more time getting onto the platform in Kings Cross only to find they had not returned there. Finally, we requisitioned some brooms and made a fly over of the entire train track. We found them hung upside down in a tree about an hour by train from London. They've been so confused from the blood rushing to their heads they haven't been able to tell us what happened. Still, get them Sorted and we'll go to bed. I could use some rest before classes start and I've got to deal with dunderheads all afternoon."

"I'm sorry Severus, and to you, boys. The sun has already risen." Dumbledore was sadly shaking his head with sorrowful eyes. "I owled your parents not half an hour ago to convey my apologies, because the ritual of the Sorting can only be performed one night every year, and that night has just passed us by. I'm afraid that you cannot join us for school this season, but must wait for the next. In the meantime, I would be most glad to offer my recommendations to another institute of learning, perhaps Beauxbatons."

"My father said I was to attend Hogwarts. When he hears of this..." Draco started to rant.

"I'm afraid there is nothing to be done, young Malfoy." Dumbledore interrupted him, "For as the Sorting is over for another year, we cannot place you."

"Just put me in Slytherin! That's the best House anyway, all Malfoys have gone there."

"Not true," The Headmaster summoned a twinkle to his eyes. "Your cousin has already joined us, and due to a rather strange set of circumstances has become both a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor simultaneously. You aunt, also, was a Ravenclaw during her stay here. You see, it is not as clear cut as you may choose to think. Even if it were, the Sorting is a binding magical ceremony and without it we cannot admit you. Nor could even the Minister of Magic require us to. So you will just have to be happy elsewhere for a year. Your father should be here, along with Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, within an hour to pick you up. I believe that a school in Bulgaria was mentioned by all of them. If that is the case, good luck to you. Now if you would just kindly wait in the entry hall with Mr. Filch here, you can await your parents. I shall have the house elves bring out breakfast for you."

Snape snapped his cloak as he stalked off, Dumbledore eyed his departing back sadly. "And, young Draco, I believe that I shall send out your aunt to offer company while you wait for your father."

I O I O I

Ranko, dressed in a very fluffy and frill-laden dress that looked abominably cute, instead of last night's ninja attire, sat on a low stool reaching under and squeezing the last few drops out of a big Jersey cow.

With a final squeeze she had this morning's milking completed. Rising with the pail, the maid poured off the rich, foamy, cream-laden dairy product into a large ceramic jug, one of two that was waiting nearby. The other was already full. Taking both and balancing them on her head, she poured the cow her morning ration of feed and gave it a pat on the head. "There, there, Bella. That's a good girl. I'll see you this evening, okay?"

Since today was a 'show day', ie, she was out in public, the girl took much greater care to speak with correct grammar. In spite of the milking chore falling just after two hours of early dawn practice of her martial arts with the rest of her team, Ranko did not suffer a hair to be out of place in her gorgeous panoply of cascading red locks; her makeup was subtle, yet perfect, and jewelry shone from her throat and ears.

But she couldn't wear rings while milking a cow. That was rude, and unfair to the poor cow.

Effortlessly balancing two large clay jugs on top of her head, each frothing with milk, Ranko gave the dairy animal a last pat on the head, her muzzle already deep into her grain, before skipping off to pause before the next stall and commencing patting and feeding the horse there, a beautiful chestnut mare. "Good morning, Kasumi! It's a bright and lovely day out. I think Hagrid will let you run out on the lawn today. School's started, so there's lots of new faces, and so many pretty girls who'll all want to pet you. I hope you'll be nice. We made two new friends, the Patil twins, identical girls named Parvati and Padma. They joined us for martial arts practice early this morning for the first time, and boy did they suck! But Cologne is a good teacher and knows what to do with them. She put them on some very basic moves to build up, and they took it well enough, I guess. I've never seen anyone trained up from scratch before! It's like watching a different world. Anyway, I'll try to visit you in between classes, but I don't know what I can promise."

The mare lifted her head and nuzzled the redhaired girl, who hugged her nose and scratched around her ears. "I know, but I can promise to be here this evening, okay?" Satisfied, the mare went back to her breakfast and Ranko skipped off happy enough. She paused at a large tank of water in among the stalls and kicked in a bucket of chopped fish. "Rise and shine, Nabiki!"

A tentacle came out of the water and swatted at her, but she dodged it without spilling a drop from the clay jugs still balancing on her head. The octopus in the tank surfaced enough to shoot a glare at the milkmaid before yanking the empty bucket off its head and flinging it at the laughing girl, who once again dodged nimbly without hardly even noticing the attack.

Ranko clapped her hands together joyously. "Why, Nabiki! You look positively delicious this fine morning!"

The octopus and her tentacles all pulled in swiftly and hid in the bottom of her big glass tank.

Walking past an empty stall, one with a straw nest currently unoccupied, Ranko grabbed a couple of thick books off the bookshelf by the door and skipped back to place them on a reading stand, all queued up in order. The first of the self-reading tomes cracked open its cover and began to pronounce, "Grindelwald, the Rise and Fall of a Dark Lord: page one, the introduction..."

There were other titles in the stack, from a conversion of a couple years compilation from Good Housekeeping, to various storybooks, a stock market analysis and a few novels. They couldn't find much of interest in the magical bookstores, so all summer long Ranko had been going to the muggle ones to buy books and do the charms herself. There was enough on the stack to keep going most of the day, and the books were programmed to start or stop at the sound of a horse's nicker, so Kasumi could pause them for her runs.

Satisfied that her charges were well cared for for another morning, Ranko skipped off and paused briefly once she'd exited the stables to knock on Hagrid's cabin, just next door.

"Good morning, Hagrid!" Ranko sang joyfully, bouncing off one of her two milk pots and catching the great clay urn before it fell far enough to break. Then she offered the jug to the giant. "Thanks again for letting us keep our animals near your house!"

The half giant blushed. "Aw, Ranko. T'weren't no trouble. I keep tellin ya. Ya don't haf ta pay me wit milk 'er nothin."

"I know! But we want to!" Ranko sang back merrily, proffering the jug again. "Besides, Bella gives us eight gallons a day and if you don't take your share there's no way that we'd keep up with her! Besides, you know what my mom says: Fresh, raw milk and cream is good for the complexion! And you're getting such rosy cheeks it makes me want to kiss you!" With an effortless bounce she equaled his height, planted a girlish peck on the end of his nose, left with a saucy wink and bounced off towards school, leaving a blushing half giant with a big jug of milk in his hands.

After staring fondly at a girl that was almost becoming like a daughter to him, Hagrid turned back into his hut and set the milk down on his table, simultaneously calling out, "Blaise! Ye'd best get yerself up an dressed. School'll be startin soon!"

I O I O I

Ranko was dancing in the back door of the great hall, singing.

"... for this is the finest milk and cream that ever came out of a cow!  
Though finest it is, the price is small, for milk and the cream alack!  
There's nothing to do but sell it all, the cow willna take it back!"

Several of the girls, especially those of the older years, stopped to stare at her. For Ranko was not dressed in the standard Hogwarts black. Indeed, she'd have shown out as a bright star practically anywhere.

She wore a full skirted dress with blousy sleeves, cut in an elegant fashion not seen in a century, but it was one of those classics that Hollywood likes to trot out from time to time as it was just so lovely there was no resisting its charm. Today she was wearing a beautiful combination of blues with accents of pink, under a silvery-blue full length apron with frilly edges and matching gloves that went up to her elbows.

In burning jealousy, most of the girls noticed that big clay pot she was balancing on the top of her head did nothing to muss up her hair. It didn't even mash it down enough to hide the jeweled tiara, or the necklace and earrings that went with it.

"Good morning, Ucchan! Good morning, Shampoo!" Ranko gave both those girls a kiss on their lips, chastely I might add, and flipped the clay pot off from the top of her head. While it was in midair upside down she grabbed four flagons and filled them each from the milk spilling out, letting not a single drop hit the floor (or anywhere else for that matter), setting the flagons out before her friends just as the clay pot landed, empty, on its base in a corner.

Taking one of the flagons she skipped up to the high table, setting it before her mother and Cologne, who were sitting together. "Good morning, mother! Good morning, Cologne!" She spared a kiss on the cheek for each of them as well and hopped back to her own place at the student's tables among the echoes of her friends' "Good mornings."

Today they were seated at Ravenclaw's table, though last night it had been Gryffindor's. This in spite of the fact that Shampoo was a Gryffindor and Ukyo was a Ravenclaw, while Ranko was somehow both. The Patil twins, sucked into this vibrant group along with them, had found themselves feeling rather plain, seeing as how they were sitting there in standard Hogwarts black while there wasn't a black stitch to be seen on any of the three other girls. In fact, their dresses were not an ounce more plain than Ranko's. Ukyo's was done up in very flattering shades of blue while Shampoo had an odd rose that set off her purple hair just perfectly. All three were embroidered beautifully, and close up it could be detected that their aprons and matching gloves were all expensive dragonhide. Ukyo's was Opaleye, and Shampoo's was Chinese Fireball, while Ranko's (today) was Swedish Short Snout.

They shone out like jewels on a black background, and it was not only students that noticed.

"Twenty points from each of your Houses for violating dress code." Snape snapped evilly from behind them, sneering at the girls.

"I contest that ruling." Nodoka said from behind him, holding a wrapped bundle in her arms. "These girls are each wearing their House colors. There is no violation."

"As I recall," Snape turned menacingly about to face her. "Hogwarts requires a black robe of all students. And these filthy popinjays are out of uniform no matter those colors!"

"And they are wearing it under those dresses. It's a thin, silk robe called a chemise, Snape. And while it is available for viewing by any female staff member, allowing an attempted rapist such as you permission to view a girl's undergarments is folly! Nor should you be allowed to insult them based on nothing more than your own petty insecurities!" She was raising her voice so the whole school heard. "The dress code's requirements are filled, and your taking away of points is just another example of your own childish tyranny!"

Never having been crossed at this school before since becoming a teacher, Snape reacted by reaching over to grab her by the shoulder so he could dig in his thumb where it would hurt, but appear to be 'friendly' as he seethed horrible, threatening whispers in her ear.

Nodoka wasn't having any of it and when he reached for her out came the bundle, smacking across his face with enough force so that he went spraying teeth. She started shouting as she smacked him again and again with the sheath. "You swore an Unbreakable Vow to your beloved Dark Lord to marry me no matter what a slime I knew you to be and 'tame' me to his will! You swore you'd raise little Death Eaters for his service by turning me into your little breed sow! You were going to use the Imperius on me! You'd cast that curse a dozen times but I kept dodging as you chased me out of the only home I'd ever known, running me off into the woods to avoid becoming your little plaything! And now you're here pulling your bullying tricks on my daughter!!"

Nodoka had, by now, smacked Snape halfway across the room, raining blows down on him to the astonishment of the entire school. Teachers sat paralyzed as Ms. Malfoy at last drew her silver weapons and pinned the bloodied Potions Prof to the back wall, sword and knife crossed just over his throat, ready to scissor his head off.

"Enough of this!" Dumbledore shouted from the front of the room, just having entered the great hall. "Nodoka, release him!"

Gazing one last moment into the panic filled eyes of her nemesis, a man who'd personally haunted her nightmares for twenty years, Nodoka gave him one cold glance before turning away and sheathing her blades. "As you wish. But remember, I told you this would be a problem before you hired me, and I objected to having that rapist near my family. You told me that you could control him, yet here this morning I found him already attacking my baby girl. What do you have to say for yourself, Albus?"

"Has your daughter come to any harm, Nodoka?" Albus was suddenly concerned.

"It was a verbal attack, but he specializes in those, and they can do more lasting harm in the end, especially to girls, Albus." Nodoka ruthlessly ignored the potions master she'd beaten bloody sinking to the floor behind her in shock.

Then her voice froze. "And you have done nothing! I've looked up the logs, Albus. He's taken more points away from Gryffindor alone than all other teachers combined have taken from all the Houses PUT TOGETHER! He does that Each Year, and has since you hired him! Nor has he spared Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw! And he's taken only one point away from Slytherin, only once! And that was nine years ago! Yet you've cared nothing for honesty or fairness all this long while and let his open bias, his bullying and extreme prejudice ruin an entire generation of children's careers! Despite the shame of it, all you've done is smile and let him do whatever his black heart pleased. He's awarded more points to his own House than all the other heads have to theirs PUT TOGETHER! And if that shame weren't enough this goes beyond merely ridiculing an entire generation and making a mockery of the House system, verbal abuse and jibes. No, he has refused entrance to his advanced class for anyone but his own toadies, and the handful he could not keep out no matter what he did."

Nodoka advanced on Dumbledore, fire in her eyes and hand closing upon the hilt of her sword. "Do you have any IDEA how many careers demand a NEWT in Potions? Do you even CARE? For Ten Years unless you were a Slytherin you could forget any dreams about becoming a Healer, an Auror, or dozens of other high-paying jobs that asked for a Potion NEWT. But the Slytherins don't want those jobs, and most of them were so used to cheating to get their grades that only one in fifty of them could pass the most basic potions exam that wasn't administered by Snape, so they couldn't get them anyway! You can't CHEAT your way to having a life skill! But all he does is smirk while his toadies smuggle completed potions into class and spend the time they should be learning sabotaging the work of REAL students! He's lucky no one HAS DIED in those explosions he chortles so much over! And the cost for his amusement is that virtually no one has ANY CHANCE AT ALL to gain any sort of decent Potions skill! So we're critically understaffed in all those positions! People DIE because of the lack of Healers, Albus. Thousands of children have had their futures crushed, ruthlessly, pitilessly crushed by this MONSTER of a man! This wretch who bears the Dark Mark on his arm and has never even apologized about it!"

She stood before Albus Dumbledore, eyes ablaze with righteous fire. "Give me a reason not to or I will kill him right now. Let Justice be done. Or are you confederate in his crimes? Is that where the control you claim over him comes from, shared guilt?" Then she finished out in a dreadful whisper that somehow managed to carry the length and breadth of the Great Hall anyway. "What awful thing have you done that he is threatening to reveal unless you protect him? Or do you support his abuse of children just because you think that it's funny?"

You could have heard a pin drop in the Great Hall, student faces were wide eyed and riveted by this spectacle all over. There was no motion anywhere, not even a breeze.

The Headmaster glanced over to where his spy was slumped to the floor, bruises forming all over his face and hands, which were his only visible flesh. Unfortunately, he found himself caught in difficult circumstances in no less than three ways. One, was that Lucius Malfoy was already en route, and by all accounts enraged for the 'failure' of Hogwarts to get his son safe to school and enrolled, once he'd been entrusted to their care by boarding the train. Already there would be a convening of the council of school governors for an inquiry on that. To get Lucius any more upset by disciplining his sister that same day could seriously jeopardize his own position as Headmaster. On the second front, having a recognized Death Eater on staff with an as-yet-unfulfilled Unbreakable Vow to force another into the Dark Lord's thrall was as bad as one could ask all on its own. Pity that Severus had never told him, or that Nodoka hadn't mentioned it before this. Lastly, there was simply the fact that he couldn't casually dismiss a Defense teacher on the first day of school, counting on getting an all-too rare replacement on short notice. And the Ministry would not stand for the subject not being taught, even if it was only delayed for a few months. They had already been quite vocal on the subject.

All of this was looking like he might lose his job permanently. So as much as it pained him to turn his back on his loyal spy, it was Nodoka who was going to be getting the kid gloves at this moment. If he got removed there would be no one to protect Severus from Azkaban or even death - particularly in the face of this very public revelation of black misdeeds as yet unpaid for and unresolved.

He could not even counterattack for fear of bringing on a power struggle he was not sure to win, as most uncomfortable sorts of investigations could be made into matters already broached.

Dumbledore normally had no care for his career, as he truly believed that he was virtually invulnerable in retaining it, having a very broad power base and influential good reputation for support. However this was one of the few exceptions of events going deep enough and broad enough to truly hurt him, and he could not easily keep Severus alive without the influence granted him as Hogwarts Headmaster. Nor could he fight the Malfoys, who held their own quite considerable power, and save his potion master's life simultaneously.

"Yet I see that you have already disciplined him appropriately, Professor Malfoy. I think he has no further need of punishment at present. Well done. The needs of our students must always come first, of course, and yet I know how much they would miss our Potions Master if he were to leave us. While Professor Snape has regrettably been allowed to run away with himself these past few years, perhaps it is time he be reined in once again; for I know how difficult he would be to replace, and how much we would miss his skills. However, I am afraid that you are going to have to take over his classes for the day, Nodoka. As you've beaten my potions master to the point where he is in no condition to do so himself. This will be in addition to your own workload, of course. Also, sometime today I would like to see you both in my office, as I find fighting among my staff repugnant. But for now you should go to the entry hall, as your nephew awaits your company."

Snape's face was white with betrayal.

Dumbledore's eyes went to the trio of girls sitting in beautiful dresses at the Ravenclaw table.

"Our black robes are worn as undergarments, headmaster." Ranko headed off his question. "As per allowances made in the school's charter and not amended since."

"And your gowns are done up in your House colors, I see." Dumbledore smiled, a bit of twinkle returning to his eye as Nodoka regally swept out of the room. "It has been a long time since I have seen that style, but your mother was correct, you are not out of uniform. Twenty points for bringing a spot of color into our lives, and ten more for looking so lovely when for many years all we have seen is basic, easy to care for attire."

Snape would have preferred to storm out of the room in fury but had to settle on a limp.

"And that brings me to another matter," Dumbledore raised his voice to address the hall. "Last night I did some study regarding dual-house pupils, and what I discovered astonished me. This was once not only done, it came close at one point to being a standard, building school unity to a degree we have not seen in a very long time. This year Ravenclaw and Gryffindor will share most, if not all, of their classes together. The students of these will quite naturally know each other better, and be more prepared to make friends. Points awarded or taken away from a dual-house student will benefit or penalize both houses equally, and that should give them an excellent start, being up thirty points each on the first day. Ranko and the two Patils are entitled to wear both sets of House colors, come and go from the dorms of each as they please, and in all other respects enjoy the membership of both Houses. The only slightly odd thing would be if they wished to join a Quidditch team, in which case the only adjustment we would need to make would be they could not compete in any games against the other house to which they also belong."

While he was talking Ukyo bent low and gathered up several teeth with her napkin, slipping them into a pocket still wrapped in paper so they wouldn't stain her dress.

A little Ravenclaw, sitting at Ukyo's elbow with a wand stuck behind her ear, wrote calmly while all this was going on, apparently unruffled by all that had occurred around her. A heavy camera lay at rest in her skirted lap.

After a while Professor McGonagall entered the room and began to hand out listings of each student's course schedules for the upcoming year. True to Dumbledore's word, all of Ravenclaw's classes were shared with Gryffindor, except for Herbology. But where one of those two Houses had Herbology the other had a free period and vice versa.

"This should be easy." Ukyo blinked at her class list. "We get to stay with Ranchan all day, it looks like. And we start today with Magical Defense! That's your mother's class, isn't it?"

"I think so. She told me this morning about changing the name of it."

I O I O I

Hermione Granger, armed with an armload of books, came up to the head table and accosted the Headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore, I should be a dual-house Gryffindor and Ravenclaw as well. The Hat told me I was perfectly suited to either, but unlike Ranko Malfoy I was willing to make a choice. I don't think I should be penalized for trying to get along inside the rules, as I knew them then."

Dumbledore put down his piece of toast. "Indeed, you should not be. But I am afraid, miss, there is nothing..."

"Oh, yes there is!" She eagerly interrupted, dropping her pile of books on the head table and opening the top one to a marked page. "It says so right here in: Hogwarts, A History, that 'even though the magical Sorting takes place only on a single night each year, for the whole week following any students who are dissatisfied with their placement can be reSorted if they so request'! Well, I so formally request." She closed that book and shoved it aside, already grabbing for the next one. "Then it says here, in..."

"That shall be quite enough, miss." Dumbledore raised palms in mock surrender. "Twenty points to Gryffindor for your most excellent research. I shall look into the matter and, if it is possible, arrange for reSorting this evening, at our twilight meal. Now if you will excuse me, I have some details to discuss, and breakfast to eat, and our mealtime is fast passing."

Hermione pouted. "I think you should give those twenty points to Ravenclaw as well, since I'll be a dual student this evening."

"If you are so Sorted, it shall be." Dumbledore promised, finally getting her to go away.

Twenty minutes later it came time for students and everyone to disperse to classes.

I O I O I

Professor Malfoy's class was being taught on the ground floor, not far from the great hall. It was one of the easiest locations to find in all of Hogwarts, and a nice, big room. The reason it saw no classes for so long was that it was not convenient to the staff quarters and offices. But Nodoka didn't want anyone getting honestly late for her courses. Outside of her door she'd even arranged for two suits of armor to be bearing flags held out at an angle, reading "Here be Magical Defense" so even getting near would be enough to find the room.

She was already there waiting for the arriving pupils and began class promptly on the dot.

"Okay class, pay attention. You, none of you, will ever be attending a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. That course has been dropped permanently. Instead, each of you will begin this year as our first ever class of Magical Defense, which has a two hour time slot. An official announcement should be coming out in today's Daily Prophet."

Hermione raised a hand. "Is there any difference in the material?"

Professor Malfoy quirked a smirk. "Miss Granger, names have enormous power. There was an honest-to-goodness curse on the DADA slot, placed there by Voldemort himself when he had his application to teach it rejected 20 years ago. Dumbledore so informed me last night." Nodoka's smile turned nasty and she slammed a fist into her palm, drawing notice to the fact that she had dried red-brown stains on her knuckles. "Of course, I had to beat that bastard bloody before he'd admit to anything, but that's the way he is. He dropped a hint and I just couldn't pass up on an opportunity to learn more, especially since the only chance I had to beat that curse was before I'd taught my first class as DADA teacher."

She released her clasped fist to drop her hands to her sides, then arranged some books. "It was mister Dumbeldore's hope to break through the curse with a frontal attack, thinking by hiring a sufficiently talented teacher who could last more than a year it would end. But he's had 20 years to try and hasn't come up with one. He ought to have taken it himself if he felt it was so important. He's ruined dozens of good wizard's reputations and lives through his optimistic idiocy, and frankly I didn't think he deserved another chance. But I digress from off topic. You asked why the name change. It's simple, really. The curse was on a Defense Against the Dark Arts class that they'd never keep a teacher for more than a year. Well now you get your first lesson as Magical Defense students: Curses Can't Think. Even though it may be blindingly obvious that Magical Defense teaches all of those same things, has the same role and textbook, gets graded much the same and so on, it has a different name. It may sound childish, but that's all you need to dodge a curse placed on a name, is change that name. Without a properly identified target, the curse fizzles away harmlessly, failing like a muggle kite with its string cut. If your Headmaster wasn't a bumbling old fool he could've realized that ages ago and saved 20 wizards' careers."

Nodoka finished arranging her books and drew herself up to face the class. "Now, it is possible to protect a name from being cursed, and if you are going to make any enemies you should always remember to do so. Do it before you get hexed because it won't stop a curse already placed. Hogwarts itself is so protected. Headmasters and teachers routinely do it to dodge jinxes from parents or kids unhappy with their grades. The four Houses are all so protected individually. But no one had thought to do so for a teaching slot. Well, that was one of the first things I did last night, was to ward the Magical Defense class from being cursed the same way. You and I should be spending the next several years together in a teaching relationship, getting a better education than your parents did."

The redhaired Malfoy teaching their class at last directed a smile toward her students. "Now that that is settled away, we begin your second lesson. There are only two methods of grounding a curse, jinx, hex or charm onto a target who is not present to have it cast on them directly. The first method takes a ritual and casts it on the name, as we have discussed. The second takes a much longer ritual and requires something intimate of the person to be hit. A piece of the body is most often used, as those have the strongest connections to the spirit. But other things can be substituted for lesser effect, a keepsake or memento, for example. Surprisingly, the muggles know this and that is where they get their legends of Voodoo. Now if you will all turn with me to page six we will overview today's practical and then we will get started."

Nodoka had a different teaching style than most of their other professors, they would later learn. She kept her lectures short and pointed, easy to remember. Most of class was spent on two things. The first half of the period she hauled out a giant, shallow bowl she explained was a pensieve, a class sized one, and everyone would together dip a finger into whatever memory she had selected. That way she could display dark creatures, magical duels, and so on from a first hand perspective without exposing them to any danger.

In that initial day they got their first experiences with seeing vampires, hags, and watching a werewolf transform, experiences none of them would ever likely forget. It was as good as being there, only better because none of those recalled creatures had substance to hurt the young students, and the impressions they gained would last a lifetime. Professor Malfoy could even pause those replayed memories to point out or highlight certain things that they might have missed without her help. It was worlds different from a dry lecture, something no one would easily forget, and conveyed details they never could've gotten out of a book.

After an hour using the pensieve, Nodoka would teach them a spell or two and have them practice those until she was satisfied or the remaining hour was up, whichever came first. If they got done early they were free to go early. There was no homework, other than she expected what she'd taught in one lesson to be mastered by the time she gave the next. So if you got your spells right and paid attention in class, that was it until the next session (which was itself a reward for paying attention, and therefore a good reason to do so).

When those two Houses of first years boiled out of their first lesson they could hardly wait to tell the school how great a class it was. Magical Defense quickly became a favorite class of all students of all years.

Everyone began to look forward to it.

For those who desired extra credit Professor Malfoy would have a list of recommended reading material as well as spells they might want to know and where to find them. But it really was extra and she didn't require them, although most of her pupils investigated some of those on their own, and some, like all the Ravenclaws, got deeply into them. Gryffindor students got a bit of a friendly rivalry going over what they'd often considered 'their subject' and went just as deeply into extra credit time on Defense as most Ravenclaws, benefiting both Houses greatly.

By the end of the first week Madam Pince, the librarian, even had to approach Dumbledore about acquiring extra copies of a score of different Defense books as demand for checking them out got so high. Some NEWT pupils who hadn't signed up for DADA heard of how superior Magical Defense was and approached their heads of Houses to get in on some of those classes.

Nodoka was glad to oblige, providing additional classes for older students.

I O I O I

Though they had not yet come to realize it, the first years of the now companion Houses of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had their two best classes at the very start of the week. They were front loaded with all of the good stuff and the rest of the week would be a letdown. First they had Magical Defense, next they had History of Magic.

The Chinese Matriarch's class was every bit as easy to find as Nodoka's, seeing as how there was a bright purple carpet that unrolled from the great hall's door to the entry of her classroom an hour before it was time, with trumpets sounding twenty minutes before each period to start and fireworks at the entrance.

There were enough classes that were hard to find. Whatever purpose there was in that was served. The new teachers wanted their students focused on the course material.

Cologne was their only other teacher who'd use a class-sized pensieve. Part of the reason for that was cost, another was that they did not apply to every subject as well as they did to these two. Watching someone cast a charm or transfigure a desk was the same in person or in a pensieve, so those two classes couldn't really benefit. Neither did Herbology or Potion courses. Astronomy could have used one a bit, but not enough to justify the expense.

In Defense they'd already realized what a treasure it was to go and see someone's recalled experience meeting dark creatures, as the class could not be touched yet gained what was effectively first hand encounters, with narration no less.

In History the device turned out to be no less useful.

Cologne had also arranged to have a double period, and also insisted on mandatory class periods for every year to make up for some of the harm that Binns had done.

"Now class," Cologne walked out wearing a gown every bit as beautiful as the trio's. "This summer Nodoka Malfoy got a rare privilege for preserving some of the most important facts of recent history. She successfully petitioned the Ministry of Magic for permission to visit Azkaban Prison, specifically to barter among the Death Eaters captured during the last war, offering a clean death in exchange for pensieve memories regarding their acts during Voldemort's reign of terror. Because conditions there are so... unpleasant, nine of every ten took her up on her offer. We now enjoy a priceless record showing details never before suspected. A large part of that Professor Malfoy will be using in her Defense class, but we will be seeing even more of it here, as these are events that shaped the world in which we now live. Many of you lost family or family friends in those battles, relatives you may have never known. During my class you may even see some of them die. That'll give you perspective when we start viewing later history and you realize those who fell in the battles back then had families and friends, too."

Cologne came to the front of the class and addressed them all directly. "Because history comes from something. It gets shaped. Understand why it happened and how, and you have a chance to do things right if events ever start to go that way again. The Greeks, the Romans, Persians, Egyptians and many others were at the tops of their heaps during their day. None of them are there now, and if you want to know why, that's history."

With a swirl of her skirts, she turned back to face the pensieve and began to pour a bottle of fluid into it. Her voice still could be heard clearly as she instructed, "History gets shaped by three things. Other stuff may factor in, but it's those three who do 90 of it. Those are wars, religion and technology, in no particular order. So for your first three years here at Hogwarts we are going to discuss wars. Luckily, I've talked to Dumbledore and some very ancient people he knows and gotten absolutely priceless memories covering about six centuries of battles here on the European continent; some of which I'm sure none of you had ever heard of, like when Sweden and the Netherlands were world powers. So we'll have a lot to cover and there's no chance of growing bored."

She shot a glance over her shoulder to the class. "The ancient stuff I've heard you already have a lot of knowledge about." She watched the class start as if pricked, and smiled. "This course should help you get a handle on it."

Stepping aside she motioned for them to form a ring around the pensieve. "For now we'll start with the era of Voldemort, something close to home. All of you dip your finger in when I count three. One, Two, Three!"

Cologne's style was different from Nodoka's. After viewing a battle, thankfully bloodless, a mere skirmish where both sides had fired to no effect, she quizzed them on who did what, probable reasons why, what effect it had, and forced the students to really observe and think about it as she ran them through that same memory once again. Then she had them analyze it again, and once she was satisfied they'd seen something other than colored lights whizzing about they all opened up boxes that had been listed among this years required materials.

Each student had a set of about two hundred and fifty inch high miniatures, charmed with most of the same spells that animated pieces for Wizard's Chess. Since they were all new to this Cologne went about casting charms on about two dozen of those figures each, and explained while she did so that she'd expect them to handle the necessary spells no later than halfway through the year.

Her charms did nothing more or less than dress eleven miniatures as Death Eaters, and a group of twelve as Aurors, with three figures dressed as the family in the house both sides had been fighting over. She had her pupils place them as they'd seen the battle start, then told them to replay the action as best they could remember it.

Naturally, they got it all wrong. But by the end of class they had a much better idea of how and what to watch for to have any true idea of what was going on.

That was enough for the first day, she released them at the end of two hours, telling them they'd be replaying those battles soon as commanders. And some of those battles they'd be doing would have certain changes to learn how it could have gone differently.

Like Nodoka, she gave them no essays, reports or homework to do, just demanded that they get the ideas she'd taught in one lesson by the next time, however they ended up doing it. And, like Nodoka, she had a list of extra credit reading to offer those who were interested. Most were, and dove into those recommended books with relish and added History to Defense as a subject that the library would be adding more books on.

It was soon a very popular course. Indeed, it fell second rank only to Magical Defense, and that was because the other had a little more glamour and taught them useful spells more often.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Now tell me honestly, if you to attend Hogwarts wouldn't you rather those courses be taught this way? And every one of those resources exists in that world. 


	7. Chapter 7

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Seven

by Lionheart

I O I O I

"Where are you going? I thought we had all of our classes together?" Hermione accosted the quintet of students leaving the first year Gryffindor/Ravenclaw mob to go off in another direction.

Ranko glanced back at being addressed, and looked over the group doing it. The only person she knew in that group was Kodachi. Was she another fugitive from Nerima? The only way to know was to ask, she guessed. But that could wait til later. "My mother insisted that I take extra lessons. We're going to another class."

Hermione checked over her own group of friends and bravely hefted her books, declaring. "Then we'll go with you."

Kodachi and Ginny, having met Hermione on the train and since made friends, gave her this one for free and supported her, mostly out of curiosity. Lavender Brown and Susan Bones went along with this mostly because the other two did, and girls being what girls were, two more looked as if they might follow along for the ride because the rest were going.

"Come along then, we haven't got much time." Ranko said over her shoulder before starting to walk away at the head of her little group, the additionals quickly following.

The dozen girls all came around to the Hospital Wing at a quick pace, arriving just a hair after another group, consisting of Dumbledore and a very old Auror. That man had scars on top of his scars, walked with a wooden leg, and had a vivid, electric blue eye that rolled about ceaselessly, twitching in every possible direction. That man had his wand out and appeared threatening as he approached Nodoka, who was just finishing up with some bandages on a mummified patient. "Ranko-chan, be a dear and wait patiently, will you? Another customer just showed up at the last moment, but I'll be done in a second."

The younger Miss Malfoy relaxed, leaning back casually against a wall. "It's not me, mom."

Snipping off the end of a roll, Nodoka turned about and saw the man advancing on her. "Oh! Albus brought me another customer! How nice." Seeming to teleport across the forty intervening feet and catching the scarred man's wand just as he was about to raise it, she effortlessly disarmed the auror and subdued him about as casually as a seasoned mother did a wiggling infant, wrestling him onto a bed before stunning him.

"There, there. You're not the first auror to get second thoughts at this stage. Don't worry, I'll have you fixed up in no time. My! You are a specimen, aren't you? So many scars! But I think I'll start with that leg..."

Still leaning casually against a wall, Ranko leaned forward to smooth her skirts and told the eleven girls with her. "Mom hid as a muggle for twenty years, and to do that you've got to have a muggle job. She started as a student at a junior college because she didn't know anything and a student's job is to learn. After a couple of years just taking electives and soft classes she told me she decided to start learning some more of what muggles know that wizards didn't, and got into pre-med. That worked out so well that she just followed it all the way through to become a reconstructive surgeon. By then she knew enough about life as a muggle to quit and claim a stock portfolio and investments supported her. But mom says that she couldn't let it go, and started to combine magic spells with muggle know how to get really good results. All summer she's been offering to fix up old aurors and guys wounded in the last war, and just bill the Ministry, who owes them medical care anyway."

By now Nodoka had effortlessly stripped her new patient and was giving him a cursory examination. The guy looked like a clay model of a human that got dropped into a blender and only roughly stuck back together by someone who didn't care much about accuracy and was in a terrible rush. Nodoka clicked her tongue. "Well, those scars are all bad enough, but I still think we'll start with that leg."

First off she cast an Engorgement Charm on the upper portion of his severed leg, doubling the size of that limb. Then with quick, neat Severing Charms, after a quick Numbing Jinx, of course, started dividing the extra skin, fat and muscle into surgically precise chunks which she then had reassembled into a lower limb in moments. Stretching Charms were used on the nerves, blood vessels and tendons to get them running through the new area. Ligaments, cartilage and other components were found, doubled, harvested, reattached, and the new bits put into place for the lower leg she'd been forming. In moments she had rebuilt the entire limb, putting scars to rights as she did so. Finally, she wrapped that whole leg up in bandages and force-fed her patient doses of blood replenishing potion and Skele-Gro.

It was with almost brutal practicality she then went forth and began rearranging skin, fat and muscle, plus bone where necessary, all over the rest of the man's stunned body to even out the scars and correct old injuries. When she was done the old guy looked almost, not quite but almost, ruggedly handsome.

It was over in two minutes, tops, and as Nodoka was tying off the final bandages around her mummified patient, she began apologizing. "I'm sorry there's nothing I can do for the eye. I've been experimenting with Twinning Charms to replace lost lungs and kidneys, but I'm still having dreadful trouble with organs in general. They're so tricky! You won't feel well over the next few days, but I'll ask Madam Pomphrey to transfer you over to St. Mungo's so they can dose you as needed with the required potions and watch over you. You'll be right as rain in a few weeks, better than you have been in years, I'm sure. Just do make sure to stay off that leg for at least seven days. It's been through quite an ordeal and won't bear your weight until it's healed some. I'm afraid every inch of it has just been injured, inside and out. But once it's had some potions and rest it will be bearing you about in no time. In a few months your body will have replaced enough tissue so that you'll be in no danger of having those charms canceled, though for a week or so it'll be ugly, if it happened. Chow!"

She stuck the man's wand through his chest bandage, with a little note attached with her care instructions for the Healers at St. Mungo's to read, ending with bundling up his clothes as a little package by the end of his feet. Then she turned about to face the little flock of a dozen girls, smiling brilliantly. "Well, now that's done we can move on to our lesson! But Ranko, who are these other girls?"

I O I O I

Before Nodoka could be answered the sound of pattering feet came and she was covered in a hug by an eleven year old boy. "You gave me back my parents!" Neville cried into her skirt. "I didn't get a chance to thank you this summer. But thank you! You made them better, they can recognize me now! They're just like everyone else's parents!"

Professor Malfoy, recognizing an emergency when it body slammed her, reached down and began stroking the boy's back. "There, there. They aren't ordinary, they're yours. That makes them special. You know they always loved you. All I did was a targeted Obliviate. Albus could have done as well." She shot Dumbledore a glance that was hard to interpret.

Soothing Neville for a few more moments and receiving his oft-repeated thanks, she then shooed him off to his business and moved out of the Hospital Wing, collecting a dozen girls on her way, who all followed in her wake.

Soon they were out on the school lawn, heading out toward the Forbidden Forest. The girls in the new group, Kodachi excepted, grew increasingly nervous as they drew close, but they stopped well short of that leafy barricade.

Nodoka turned to address the assembled girls. "Alright, before we go any further I believe that you need to know what is going on. I didn't want to discuss this in the castle for fear of being overheard, which always happens if there is a painting or a ghost nearby, Professor Dumbledore follows after his predecessors in using them as scouts and spies. Plus he has his own tricks, don't meet his eyes and he can't use most of them. But I digress. I asked my daughter to do as I had done and start on all the electives in her first year. That gives you two extra years to master them, and is a great advantage later in life. More important still, some opportunities only come once, and if you aren't active you'll miss them. Also, there is the small but considerable advantage that tests come comparatively late for you, and you will be more relaxed and score higher when OWL and NEWT examinations come."

At this point in the little speech Hermione was glittering, hugging her schoolbooks tightly in inquisitive wonder, and you'd have to use wild horses to drag her away.

"It is a burden starting so early," Nodoka warned, her mannerisms advising caution. "But not one that I think is beyond anyone who really tries. If any of you wish to coast through your schooling, however, this is not the path to take as it requires effort and attention. So if any of you want to back out, now is a good time. Not the only time, but a good one."

Hermione was, if anything, even more enthusiastic about this and couldn't wait to start. The others, from the Patils to those hangers-on following Kodachi or Hermione out of curiosity, were less sure. Two factors kept them hanging around. One was they were embarrassed and no one wanted to be the first to leave. But also they'd already had Professor Malfoy's class earlier that day and admired her as an instructor. There was a little of the temptation of advantage involved as well. Fifth year students were already moaning and groaning about their upcoming OWLs. Besides, most of them were Gryffindors, too brave to be scared of a little extra work, and the others were all Ravenclaws, too thirsty for knowledge to turn this opportunity down.

Ranko and her two friends from Nerima had already bought into this program long ago, and so after a moment when no one turned her down, Nodoka turned around and motioned for them to follow her into the Forbidden Forest.

They stopped a short way in at a clearing, just inside of the cover of the trees. Professor Malfoy again turned about and began distributing soft candies with a waxy texture and dark brown color, with a band of irregular white on one end. "Okay dears, from this point on humans aren't really welcome. Go ahead and take these, I'll talk while you're chewing."

Nodoka took her own candy, turned her back and snarfed it down real fast trying hard not to sound deplorable as she briefly used one of Genma's eating techniques. That done, she swiveled back to address this impromptu class. "Very well, the Forbidden Forest is actually forbidden for two reasons. Who can tell me the first?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air, though her reply was somewhat garbled as she tried to speak around the excessively chewy candy and the mouthful of slobber it produced. "The Forbidden Forest is home to many dark and fearsome creatures, Professor."

"Very well, take five points for Gryffindor. And before you ask, I'll award them to Ravenclaw this evening when you get your dual-house status. I have no doubt you'll do it, dear, unlike Albus who hasn't taken a measure of you yet. He'll be flattering enough once he's seen you can be of use to him. Bear that in mind when his eyes start twinkling. But true enough, this forest is home to many a dark creature. The dark creatures accumulated here, however, after this forest had been forbidden. They found it a refuge from hunting wizards, and so they remained. The wizards did not venture here for another reason, and that is that pre-Roman civilizations had left behind artifacts of great power located here, most of which are broken, and the rest are ill-understood, with great difficulty telling between those two. The intent was to keep the curious or ill-prepared away while experts went in and studied those ruins for the betterment of magic-kind. Unfortunately that didn't happen for any number of reasons, and people just fell into the habit of avoiding this place. The curious really shouldn't be in this forest, as the standard five year course in Ancient Runes barely conveys the beginning of what you need to know in order to study some of these ruins safely. In all honestly, I myself don't know half of what I need to to understand how they work. But the centaurs, who live here, have found out how to operate one or two just by centuries of opportunity to study what they could read on those stones, and a little trial and error. One of the things we are going to try to do here is befriend them so I may learn what they know. Look at your feet."

The girls all did, and every one of them was a horse from the waist down. Different colors and different markings, but each girl had become a centaur. Nodoka, who had a beautiful red color to her horse half, handed out a rough dozen soft leather tops. "Put these on dears, the people we are going to meet don't like humans, and Hogwarts robes would be a dead give away. And I'm afraid those dresses aren't suitable, either. You can put them in this bag that I've enchanted to keep clothes unwrinkled and fresh for when I travel."

Nodoka held open a satchel. Glad they had privacy, the girls changed.

I O I O I

"Elder, I have brought the yearlings," Nodoka, the centauress told an old and wizened grey centaur whose coat had gone white all over. With a start, the children realized that he was blind when he looked at them all with grizzled, empty sockets.

"Let them come near, so that I may feel them, herd-daughter."

The old grey guy was sitting, legs folded under him, at the cavity between the roots of a great old tree probably as old as he was, though it bore its age better. Ranko was the first to trot up, with typical Gryffindor boldness (or rather the bold self confidence most of that House wished they had but didn't). The wizened old guy ran one hand's fingers as light as snowflakes over her face, the other started at her head hair and carefully followed her spine all the way down to her horse's tail. With a flick to the flank he set her hopping off, and the next in the queue, Ukyo, trotted up to have the same done to her.

Shampoo was next, and then Kodachi. By then the girls' jitters had calmed down. The old guy was blind, and this was the only way he could see them. They'd been half afraid he'd want to touch naughty bits, but this was just another form of introduction, so they all got in line.

"This first was your foal. Your energy tingles all throughout her." The elder spoke when he was done getting to know their faces and outline of their spines.

"She is," Nodoka answered simply. She'd informed the girls before they got here that none of them would be required to speak at all; and in fact it was best if they didn't, as there were customs and culture none of them would be aware of, and a misstep could be disastrous.

"Let them stand at rest, or sit comfortably. Not many come to learn this lesson anymore. The hearts of the herd have turned toward the stars, finding in them enough to sate their hunger for things unknown." Kodachi's ears perked up at this, her devious mind sensing a test.

Nodoka's answer did not disappoint her. "These know the stars, honored elder. They are not remiss."

Apparently Nodoka's knowledge was not complete of this ceremony of introduction, either, as the ancient, blind elder then proceeded to quiz each girl there on stars, their movements and patterns, names and details. He didn't repeat a question once, and he addressed each girl directly allowing no others to interfere. Hermione had to be shot a stern, and somewhat frightened, look by Nodoka when on impulse she'd raised her hand. While it was difficult for the Granger girl to stay in her seat and not answer every question put to anyone, they all came through alright, though most of them were surprised by how much they knew and how easily they could access that knowledge.

Nodoka was even more surprised that the old centaur had questions they didn't know the answers to. Fortunately, he provided the answers in a kindly manner when they admitted they didn't know.

"It is enough," the elder centaur declared, once he'd done grilling them one by one. "Their knowledge is sufficient, even admirable for ones so young."

Taking a deep breath, the old centaur heaved himself to his feet, composing himself with arms folded across his chest, shoulders back, in what had to be a ritual pose. "You have come seeking to know the Arts of Divination. Humans taught us the start of what we know, but we have expanded upon this knowledge while they have largely forgotten. They focus on the future. This is an error. While the future can be seen, it is as a distant mountain viewed through fog at night. Through great skill, devices and cunning one might pierce the fog and shadows of the night, yet the distance itself will render all things seen indistinct. However, as one moves closer more becomes visible.Yet if you want to know great events of futures not yet come to pass, it is best to study that which has gone on before. You can easily know the details of a mountain if you have been there. The leaves and grass may have changed, yet the bones remain unaltered, so when you cast your gaze to the mountain again the slightest hints tell a deeper story, for you already know the patterns."

The old, grizzled, grey head looked as though it would shake in sorrow, but could not without dropping its ritual pose. "As with gazing at a mountain, events of the future can be detected in the broadest sense from far away, and in increasing detail as you get closer to that future becoming present. Yet always you must be mindful of what patterns you seek. Great events are as predictable as the patterns of the stars, and just as complicated. Small events are as infinite as the faces of the sea, and as subject to change without warning from pleasant to dire."

The old, grey beard nodded gravely. "For the future, remember not to ask 'what will be' for yourself. That surrenders your will to a prediction. Instead, when asking for yourself ask the question 'what would be the consequences of this decision'. That is perhaps the highest of all the arts of predicting the future, and the only one that is useful if applied properly. That is the Great Riddle, and the first mystery of Divination: What the heart most yearns to know, the uncertain future, it profits least from learning. Our futures should be shaped by actions, not bound by predictions from tea leaves."

The old guy dropped his pose, and Nodoka motioned the girls, who brought forward the baskets of fruits she'd previously given them to carry and lay them at the base of the tree, after offering a sample of each to the centaur.

"Return this evening, when you have thought on my words." The grey coated elder told the group as they were about to leave his clearing.

"That was a great teacher," Ranko breathed, obviously impressed, as soon as they'd passed the centaur patrols and crossed enough forest so that she thought it was safe to talk.

"But it didn't mean anything!" Susan Bones protested.

"Sure it did!" Ukyo replied, trotting along. "Look, sugar, that was the most practical lesson we've had all day!"

"I don't get it," Parvati voiced finally. "He didn't teach us to do anything we couldn't before going to see him."

"Old man centaur not tell what do. He tell much more important: Why do, what not do, and where value in doing. Not waste self or time struggling for what you not want achieve. Very good lesson!" The purple haired amazon enthused.

"But all he taught us was that it wasn't very useful to see the future. How can that be right?" Lavender objected.

"Child," Nodoka instructed, trotting along back toward Hogwarts. "Compare it to casting a curse. Today he did not mention an incantation for how to cast the spell, he told us when and under what circumstances it is best to use it. Only once you know those is it safe to learn the spell. And if you can grasp the metaphors he was using, it was both practical and beautiful. What concerns me is there has typically been a ten day waiting period between lessons in the centaur culture, and now he wants to resume with you this evening. It worries me, and he quizzed you when he shouldn't have felt it needed. But it seems I have returned you in time for lunch. Sorry about your morning free study period, but I trust you won't regret using it for these extra lessons."

The girls reassured her that it was interesting and they would be there that evening, after dinner, as she passed out the antidote drinks for the centaur candies.

Kodachi reserved her opinion as they came back in sight of the castle.

I O I O I

The staff were sitting at the head table as the Sorting Hat was brought in that evening. The looks on their faces grew gradually more horrified as they listened to it sing:

"The world today seems absolutely crackers, With nuclear bombs to blow us all sky high. There's fools and idiots sitting on the trigger. It's depressing and it's senseless, and that's why...

"I like Chinese.  
I like Chinese.  
They only come up to your knees,  
Yet they're always friendly, and they're ready to please.

"I like Chinese.  
I like Chinese.  
There's nine hundred million of them in the world today.  
You'd better learn to like them; that's what I say.

"I like Chinese.  
I like Chinese.  
They come from a long way overseas,  
But they're cute and they're cuddly, and they're ready to please.

"I like Chinese food.  
The waiters never are rude.  
Think of the many things they've done to impress.  
There's Maoism, Taoism, I Ching, and Chess.

"So I like Chinese.  
I like Chinese.  
I like their tiny little trees,  
Their Zen, their ping-pong, their yin, and yang-ese.

"I like Chinese thought,  
The wisdom that Confucius taught.  
If Darwin is anything to shout about,  
The Chinese will survive us all without any doubt.

"So, I like Chinese.  
I like Chinese.  
They only come up to your knees,  
Yet they're wise and they're witty, and they're ready to please.

"All together.

"verse in Chinese  
Wo ai zhongguo ren. (I like Chinese.)  
Wo ai zhongguo ren. (I like Chinese.)  
Wo ai zhongguo ren. (I like Chinese.)  
Ni hao ma; ni hao ma; ni hao ma; zaijien! (How are you; how are you; how are you; goodbye!)"

Ranko was chuckling to herself as she slipped out the back, hearing the Hat sing the reprise as she snuck out on her way to Hagrid's Hut. Who even knew the Sorting Hat knew that song? She was tempted, briefly, to stay and sing along.

If Shampoo or Cologne hadn't left already they probably would have stayed and sung.

Evening at Hagrid's hut was one of the more remarkable things to look forward to as they always recounted the events of that day. Only the core group of seven were there visiting: Nodoka, Cologne, Ranko, Shampoo and Ukyo, plus the two Patil twins. This had been a daily event for most of them ever since they'd fled from Nerima and taken up residence at Hogwarts.

The girls were allowed to stay at the castle over the summer because they had no other place to go, and their parents were here. In between their normal activities of building up resistance to Voldemort by preparing other people for his return, they had focused quite a lot of time and energy on their own preparations.

All summer long the girls had practiced spells under Nodoka and Cologne's close tutelage. The entire family (and they did view themselves as a family) had practiced Anything Goes, learning together over the summer.

And Genma had passed on all he knew to the woman he'd thought was his wife. The only time he'd ever touched her was during sparring. She hadn't even needed an impotence jinx to keep him out of her bed, though she'd used one anyway as a precaution. That man's only appetite was for food, and meals were a small price to pay for his fighting techniques.

Nodoka had only tricked the fool into believing he was married to her for his martial arts knowledge, and had endlessly grilled him for everything he knew, including especially his secret techniques. Liquor spiked with truth serum was a combination the mental midget had never figured out, and the idiot could not resist a bottle when she left one out. Nodoka had trained more intelligently than he did and was better for it. But when Genma had gotten rid of his master and left off training (meaning he'd never have a useful thing to teach again, as she was already better than he was) she'd kicked him out and made him think it was his idea.

The only thing she hadn't counted on was the pathetic moron kidnapping her son on his way out the door. Undoing the damage from that was an almost infinite task. Ranko had been stunned to learn that the greedy fool who'd raised her was not related to her at all, and that he'd made up horrible things about her mother to keep her from seeking her out.

Though Nodoka had practiced the beheading stroke, that was in anticipation of having the thief and kidnapper kneel before her, not her only child.

Since arriving, the small family had practiced everything together, doing the work to merge the best aspects of their fighting styles, and the strongest base to build that combination off of was Anything Goes. They'd even played tag and pillow fight with Hagrid, never leaving the reach of his arms while they bounced about trying to avoid the pillow he'd wave at them for hours and calling that a game.

Of course, accidents will happen, and after a few holes had appeared in the walls of his hut, Nodoka had felt so ashamed of herself that now the Groundskeeper lived in a much larger stone outbuilding with four floors if you counted the two levels of basement, and an average of three rooms a floor. All of them had shortly been filled with assorted herbs and things, except one that they used as a sort of meeting chamber.

But for tonight, they were doing as they had done for months: reviewing their lessons and asking Hagrid for help. Everyone there knew this was more for Hagrid's benefit than theirs, but no one was rude enough to say that. It was just a convenient excuse and that was good enough to get the half giant to study along with them as those girls memorized the first two years of subject matter over the break. Close tutelage by their parents made that whiz past and sink deeply in, providing an enormous advantage.

Ranko poured another glass from the enormous jug of milk. Bella was happy, and Kasumi and the others were fine. The mare was practically dancing in anticipation of the next day. Speaking of the next day, their first evening lesson as centaur mares had gone better than anticipated, with the old, grey guy teaching them all a charm that had been useful enough to get the other girls excited about returning for future lessons.

Nodoka was still worried about the accelerated pace, and what that might bode, but at least their class as a school of merfolk had gone off without a hitch, and Undersea Herbology was looking to be every bit as interesting as promised.

"Rock cake, Ranko?" Hagrid offered a plate, beaming with a big smile.

"Yes, thanks." The girl reached out and grabbed a half dozen, crushing one in her fist over her milk. The dang things were tasty as anything once you softened them up a bit! She took a bite of one, still hard, and began to chew while reading. But the other girls put theirs in the drinks to soften up first.

Hagrid was happier than he'd been since school.

"Hagrid, I'm having trouble with this Defense lesson. Would you review it for me?" Ukyo took off her earrings and offered one to the giant.

"Well, that's yer mothers class, ain't it, Ranko? Let's see what I can do fer ya there, Ukyo-chan." The half giant bent down and took one of the proffered earrings, holding the stone to his forehead. Those jewels held all of the same enchantments as omnioculars, only Nodoka had done something funky with the playback so that it took only seconds to review hours worth of experiences, and it felt like realtime.

Hagrid took the stone away and set it down moments later. "Well, that's simple enough. It's only a werewolf after all. Come ta think of it, I know one. I'll invite him up ta the castle this weekend. Full moon's not too far away, and I've got a real sturdy cage. If he's of a mind ta, ya could even watch him transform! It ain't like he's got a better place ta stay."

The best thing about offering to help Hagrid like this was so often he found a way to truly offer help in return.

"Hagrid," Ranko offered a wonderful smile, an essay, and an earring to their host. "Can you make sure that I didn't miss anything in my History homework?"

"Sure now, here jest a sec and I'll check." That gentle man finished scribbling a note to Remus Lupin, folded that into a letter, and shoved it into his pocket. Then he took the stone and touched it to his head.

While he was thus occupied, Ukyo gave a scandalized whisper. "We don't HAVE any homework for History of Magic!"

Ranko returned a grin that said 'I know that', and Ukyo almost laughed. When the half giant regained his outside senses he returned the stone and read the essay. "Looks pretty good to me, Ranko-chan. I'm sure you'll get a good grade on that'un."

"Hmm, amazon eyes soooo tired! Hagrid be angel and read to me?" The purple haired eleven year old stretched out lazily on the couch, offering her textbook to the giant.

Nodoka practically had to laugh as Hagrid went over 'One Thousand And One Magical Herbs and Fungi' with her, and had practically every one of those mentioned on hand, right there in his hut! So the girls got to handle and gain experience with them.

The Patils ate this up, getting really useful insight, even though for the others this was all review.

"Now dears," Cologne reminded. "It's getting on toward curfew, and you have Potions in the morning. Hagrid, would you show them? I'm so busy with this knitting, you see, and..."

"Sure!" The big man responded, looking around. "Now where did I leave my cauldron? Ah, 'ere it is! Let's see now..." The girls watched as, with great difficulty, Hagrid brewed the boil remover that Snape had all of his first years start their practice on. Getting him to where he'd become willing to show them anything, even 'just fer practice, unnerstand' had taken them most of the summer, but the giant's skills were returning to him now.

"Hagrid," Nodoka got out of her seat when the potion was done and he was unexpectedly wiping sweat from his brow over the difficulty it had cost him. The Defense teacher went over and began to measure the giant, taking a tape to his armpit, elbow, fingers and so on. "Tomorrow I was wondering if you'd be willing to show the girls a few wand motions, just so they could see them, of course. You've been so good at helping them out so far, and with Cologne and myself getting so busy as classes start... you will be a dear, won't you, and do it for us?"

"Well, sure madam Malfoy. That is, I reckon I could... that is.."

The Professor beamed a smile at him. "Don't worry. I'll cut you a nice stick to use. Now dears, it's time to go back to the castle. Say goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight, Hagrid!" Everyone chorused. The rather embarrassed giant waved.

Nodoka paused in the door on her way out, the last one to leave. Looking back, she asked, "Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy wasn't it?"

Then she vanished.

Blaise came back in a moment later, carrying a bucket. "Hey, if they didn't need a gallon of flobberworm mucus why did they send me for one?"

Hagrid smiled, too happy to be curious. "Don' pay it no mind. They didn' get that far in their lessons anyway. They'll use it tomorrow, I'm sure. Now you'd best get off ta bed."

I O I O I

That evening in the Gryffindor girls dorm the first years were having a chat as they got ready for bed, and they'd invited a few Ravenclaws to join them, getting the full dozen of those that had joined together for extra lessons that day to attend.

Hermione was proudly wearing her blue and bronze House badge next to her red and gold one on her nightshirt as she brushed out her hair. "Will Professor Snape behave better now, do you think?" She was concerned, they had Potions class tomorrow, and all of the rotten things she'd heard of the man did not bode well.

Ukyo, in an amazingly good looking comfortable and yet frilly nightdress, snorted in disdain. "Feh, there's no record that Dumbledore has disciplined him even once. From the way he acted over the summer it's obvious he hasn't. Snape's so sure he's immune to reprisal that he's broken every school rule regarding teacher-student relations and never yet has a word been said about it by the Headmaster. Snape won't change now, he's too certain he can still get away with it, that Dumbledore will shield him in spite of anything. The only question is: Will our Headmaster at last realize that the price he's paid to keep this spy is more than the man is worth? If it was a question between a handful of grudging crumbs of information the guy doled out ten years ago (while passing back at least equal information to the evil side, as a good double agent must do) or having another thousand trained Healers and Aurors, I'd take the extra trained people any day, in a heartbeat."

"Snape is a spy?" several girls asked at once.

"Was one, but no very good one. He turn just in time to save neck at end of last war, not do anything earn pardon, just get one." Shampoo snorted. "Man paid for services already by not slap in jail, not need be allowed be teacher on top of what he already get. Man do too too much harm. Wonder if he not still work for Moldyshorts, just fool Headmaster. Work he do is all for support of dark side."

"If you count his horrible teaching as an attack, he's put more potential aurors out of action than all the other Dead Munchies combined." Ranko was hanging from a ceiling beam by her toes, her red hair and pretty pajamas hanging down as she meditated.

"Ranko? Can I ask you something?" Ginny asked.

The upside down maiden opened her eyes to scan her a second before she answered, quirking a smile, "Sure, it's just us girls, right?"

Ginny nodded. "Why did your mother accept us so easily when we were just tagging along? That forest trip had to be dangerous, and she had planned it so well that it had to be important to her. Adding so many of us who didn't know what was going on had to increase the risk of her plan failing. Yet she took us out into the forest twice today for those lessons. Why did she trust us?"

Ranko's toes released the beam she'd been holding on to and she flipped midair to land softly with her toes on the ground before settling into a relaxed 'I don't care' stance. "Mom is of the opinion that the better skilled or armed Voldemort's foes are, the safer she is. An she believes that some people are worth trusting more than others. But if you want to know the real reason how she felt she could trust you, it was because she's got a kneazel, and it said that you're okay."

"Where did she hide it?" Hermione inquired, curious as she'd never seen one of those animals and they sounded so perfectly useful.

"In her hair," Ranko replied, taking out a locket from her own fiery red locks and expanding it to dinner plate size, then popping open the lid. All of the girls crowded around as they heard mewing, and what they saw within was not unlike a mother cat, with eight little kittens whose eyes were not yet open.

"Oh! She's so cute! Can I have one?" One of the Gryffindors with a mountain of bouncy brown curls inquired.

All of the other girls thought they were darling as well.

"Maybe." Ranko sighed, smiling with moist eyes. She liked cats, after... well, she liked them. "Kneazels don't trust everyone, and we've got to wait for their eyes to open and for them to be weaned. But if you still want one and they like you, sure you can have one. Mom told me we ought to breed them so more people can have them, and if we trust you with our extra classes this'll be no problem."

"Ranchan's just gave birth the day before school started. It nearly made her eyes bug out to watch over little neko-chan and help her through it." Ukyo teased. "But her mom's pet is still a few days away from having her litter." She took a locket out of her own hair. "Mine is not so far away as that. She might even have hers during Potions class."

Ginny bounced out of her bed, announcing, "I'll go get a plate of cream for the mother cats." And she walked out of the girls' room in her nightgown, throwing on a robe over that as she went to find her brothers, since she knew they knew where to find the kitchens.

She caught Fred and George on their way out of the portrait hole, on their way to do some mischief. She didn't care, and just asked for directions.

As she was leaving, Lavender Brown leaned forward on her bed, resting her chin on her hands. "Okay girls, now for the meat of this evening. Where did you get your dresses, and do you have more of them?"

"We made them," Ukyo returned.

"Mom insisted, and I'm glad." Ranko glittered, brushing out her hair. "I'd hate to say this, but those robes everyone else had to wear aren't very flattering. I can't imagine anyone who'd look good in them."

Actually, her mom's plans had been a little more intense than that. Nodoka's daughter's and her friends outfits were a deliberate ploy on the Lady Malfoy's part. A scheme that she was even now furthering by talking privately to Molly, chatting with the new teacher in her room, and subtly encouraging her to offer sewing charms as part of her classes.

The fancy dresses they'd worn were something to grab other girls' interest. If you were the flightiest, least likely to concentrate on classes girl in existence, you were still likely to notice another girl's dress being prettier than yours; and want to do something about that, seeking out charms and whatnot to acquire your own pretty clothes (as these styles were not sold in stores). And once you'd mastered that one aspect of magic, it was so much easier to branch out and learn others.

It was an attempt to trick girls into taking to their studies seriously by using fashion as bait.

"Charms no so very hard." Shampoo was brushing another girl's hair for her.

"Would you like to see our wardrobes?" Ukyo offered.

"See?! We'll want to borrow clothes for tomorrow!"

"I wish you could," Ranko shrugged. "But a rule made in the thirteenth century prohibits any girl from wearing borrowed clothes. I think they had a lice problem back then, but it's never been repealed. And you know Snape would take points off, even if no one else noticed. But," she glittered, pulling open a drawer packed with fabric and sewing tools. "I'd bet in fifteen minutes you could get the hang of the two charms you need, and I've got the cloth. You won't be as fancy as we are until you've had a few months to practice and get the more advanced charms. But you won't be wearing Awful-Drab tomorrow morning, either."

She was predictably swarmed by eager recruits.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

The single biggest problem about teaching is getting students who want to learn. And, well, if you can dangle bait before their eyes, like offering girls pretty clothes, you can often get motivated students.

And nothing learns so well as a motivated student.

Besides, can't you agree that Nodoka has a point? EVERYONE is safer if the people most likely to resist Voldemort are stronger and better trained! 


	8. Chapter 8

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Eight

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Minor sex scene in this chapter. Skip it if you don't like it, just go to the next break.

I O I O I

As an eleven year old Kodachi was even more slender and svelte than before, although she noted her strength had not dropped, nor had her conditioning. Possibly something to do with the youth magic. It had wound back her years, but not her training.

So it was child's play to excuse herself to the toilet while the others were busy with sewing and teaching charms and lower herself out of a tower window using her ribbon. One thing she had learned, especially in the Kuno estate, was the more treacherous and uncertain the ground the more vital it was to know your home territory.

She was tempted to follow that Weasley girl. She had become sort of friends with her, though Kodachi was still feeling her way with that concept. Having friends was a new thing for her, and she was a bit concerned if she could do it right and not mess it up.

However, of more immediate concern was her current state of comparative helplessness. Kodachi was no stranger to being drugged, and she'd been quite fully aware of herself and her situation when, last night, a crowd of small blue kami flew in the room and put everyone to sleep with clouds of sparkling powder.

Everyone but her. She had a rather surreal resistance to those things, having cultivated it.

But as much as she'd resisted the compulsion to follow trancelike, those pixies had managed to command her as effectively as though she had been sleeping. The drug did have an effect, just a reduced one on her body, and so she had obeyed. Then a good bit of acting had been required to pass herself off as sleeping when she'd found those responsible. It had been possible to position herself and adjust her pace to linger and listen to them talk, however, and she had learned a great deal doing so.

There was apparently a war going on between European wizards, and the one entitled dark was not defeated, only in hiding. One of their teachers, Severus Snape, was still his servant according to the pigtailed girl, and according to her mother it was not going to be long before open fighting returned, and she was trying to prepare them all for it.

All nicely meant, but the descendant of Hecate would much rather be an active participant than a casual observer. And sadly she had to acknowledge her current lack of power made her far inferior a player to the pigtailed girl, who had her mother and friends.

She paused on her way to the dungeons, struck by a thought: It was not the pigtailed girl and her mother she ought to be counting as rivals, as they had assisted her, including her both into the night march to those marvelous teaching tools and during the much more private and intimate setting of those extra lessons during the day.

Kodachi had not had so much help from anyone; no, even from the Weasleys. This Malfoy woman seemed honestly intent on including her if she wanted to be included, and her help was of no small import.

Indeed, as she had left them the Nerima girls were engaged in some very anxious tutoring of other girls. They seemed genuinely intent on filling out the measure of the words of the pigtailed girl's mother, helping anyone who seemed opposed to her enemy.

The former Kuno girl was not willing to go quite that far about it, as that approach just felt too innocent. She knew how many faces could turn from friendly to rival in an eyeblink once the person learned your name, or other such silly nonsense.

For one thing, she had already made one enemy at this school in the person of Filch. That nasty, wicked man had abused her good graces, acting horribly when all she'd done was ask for directions to the Hufflepuff common room! She was going to see her brother, and the filthy peasant had gone so far as to roughly grab her, sneer in her face, verbally abuse her and suggest vile punishments for simply inquiring as to the way!

She wasn't going to act like her newly discovered, dearly beloved brother was on another planet just because of some silly hat saying different words to each of them!

So she had two stops tonight. Oddly, she found the second first: the Potions classroom in the dungeons. Walking in, she stepped gingerly over the smashed furniture, around piles of ash, steaming stone or pools of smoky liquid, to where the wall separating Snape's office had been smashed in from the classroom side, crushing a pensieve and scattering potion supplies and books with bits of rubble laying on them.

Books were what she was there after. Knowledge was power, after all, and she had already identified her best subjects. Potions was where she stood the tallest above her classmates and so the wisest place to begin playing up her advantage.

Rummaging through those piles, she felt gratified that none of the various liquids had fallen over this grand avalanche of volumes (though there was a shelf lined with bottles hanging at a crazy angle over it, held on merely by a bent pin), and soon Kodachi had selected those books that suited her; Copies each of Basic, Intermediate and Advanced Potion Making, Most Potente Potions, and dozens of other works. Some were obviously old school texts, a few no longer in use; and finding a copy of Basic Potion Making with cramped notes in a steady hand, the slender gymnast recognized the work of a genius and found everything, over a dozen books, by this Half Blood Prince person.

Seeing she had at least two copies of every book present, and everything (including loose papers) in the handwriting of that Half Blood Prince, the former Kuno jumped away, ribbon slashing out behind her to drop the dangling rack of bottles onto the pile of papers, starting a greenish-blue blaze as she left toward her second destination, grateful for the expanding bookbag she'd thought to bring with her as she skipped out over the hoof prints stamped six inches deep into the stone flooring.

Filch's office was not hard to find once she'd oriented herself. That bent little man was out stalking the halls looking for students out of bed instead of guarding his roost.

A swipe from her ribbon slashed the lock cleanly off, then the hinges when the door failed to open. Stepping over the fallen wooden portal, Kodachi entered intent on mayhem. Then she found the confiscated items and a thought occurred to her.

Taking everything that Filch had taken from the students over the years gave her a useful perspective on what items were popular and illegal at Hogwarts. Putting those back into circulation should annoy this awful little man tremendously. Then there was his list of forbidden items, she took it, intending to drop it in a fire somewhere other than her common room. Kodachi doubted whether that wicked little freak kept that whole long list memorized, and replacing his notes on what he hated would require whole new experiences with any number of items!

The svelte gymnast even found a vault, and slashing open that metal door revealed a most precious collection of powerful items confiscated from students across the years. Grabbing an invisibility cloak and swirling it around her shoulders, Kodachi emptied that chamber into her now strained bookbag, and, leaving behind a bomb with some truly interesting powder contents by the entrance to the office primed to explode when disturbed, bounded away to return to her dorm.

She still had enough time to sew herself a wonderful dress before retiring to sleep, and she already knew those sewing charms the pigtailed girl was no doubt still laboring to teach her dorm mates. She'd be as fancy as them in the morning, apart from a regrettable lack of jewels.

And that lack could be attended to.

"Sasuke!" She called into the quiet.

With a slight 'bamph' her servant appeared, kneeling before her. "Yes Mistress?"

She'd been surprised during the Sorting that first night to hear the Hat call out "House Elf", but even more amazed when she caught the newly transformed person's name as the same as her old retainer.

Apparently her old family had not been quite ready to lose her and sent the family's ninja servant to follow her, even to Hogwarts... which had proved useful. "I require jewelry to wear for the morning. Run back to Japan and fetch me my mother's chest, will you?"

"At once, mistress Kodachi!" Sasuke, the ninja elf, vanished without a sound.

I O I O I

Professor Minerva McGonagall was walking back to her office after having stayed up late going over petitions from parents, when she heard voices around a corner of the corridor ahead. Something made her stop, and it wasn't just hearing a girl crying her heart out. It was something deeper.

"Snape took a hundred points away from Gryffindor just for catching me up after hours!" Ginny protested, almost incoherent from her tears.

"Hm, must have caught him in a more foul mood than usual. Any other teacher would have docked us four points, but I can understand him feeling snippy after being humiliated in front of the school like that." One of the twins replied. "He was probably lurking around, waiting to take his temper out on one of us. I'm sure he gave you a detention, too. Sometimes I think that vampire can't sleep at night unless he's taken a bite out of a Gryffindor during the day."

"Yah," the other replied. "Supposedly you can ask for an unfair judgment to be reviewed. But don't bother going to McGonagall. She's too concerned with being impartial to be supportive. She's so busy being Deputy Headmistress first and Transfiguration Teacher second that there's no room in there for Head of Gryffindor House, or at least we've never seen her display any sign of it."

"Yah, she's never stood up for us. Not like Professor Malfoy. I wish I could listen to her lay into Snape again! That was the most beautiful speech I ever heard!"

"I'd like to watch her beat him across the hall again, my beloved brother. Never have I seen something so lovely in all thirteen years of our lives!"

The voices cut off as she heard a voice speak from behind her. "Ah, Professor McGonagall, there you are. I've been looking for you. We need to discuss what we are going to do to protect Professor Snape from Nodoka Malfoy."

Minerva McGonagall's face went stony, as it did when dealing with delinquent students, and her pricked pride replied in loud tones. "And who will protect the children from him, Albus? Snape's behavior since you brought him on board has been illegal, immoral and disgusting! He shouldn't be allowed near children, much less trusted to teach them. Our twelve year olds act with greater maturity! That man should be in jail, rotting with dementors infesting his brain. And if you want to protect him, I'll gladly see the pair of you leave this school together! And I will use my influence for that purpose!"

With that she turned on her heel and walked smartly away, as she crossed the corner she could see the trio of Weasleys had stopped their conversation to stare at her in stunned awe. It made her feel oddly triumphant to have earned those looks of admiration as she walked away from the poleaxed look on Dumbledore.

She stopped and looked at the trio of Weasleys. "And a hundred points to Gryffindor for being brave enough to be up out of your quarters at night on a mission of mercy. I see that plate of cream you've got and presume it to be for Miss Malfoy's kneazel kittens? Good. Ginny, if you have a detention you may serve it with me, eating ice cream while we pet the Malfoy's darling pets. Good night to the three of you."

She nodded firmly and was gone around a corner.

I O I O I

"Pigtailed girl, may we talk?"

Ranko looked up at the head currently parting her curtains. Unlike most of the other girls, she was not sharing her bed for this sleepover. Without a word, she sat up, pulled her knees in and patted the covers next to her, watching the other girl carefully.

Kodachi slipped in the four-poster, and waited while Ranko cast silencing charms so they could not be overheard from outside. She'd just returned from a short detour to the Great Hall (where she'd tossed certain bits of incriminating evidence into a fire) and found the girl she'd most wished to talk to had already gone to bed.

"This is about Nerima, isn't it?" Ranko asked as she put down her wand.

Kodachi nodded. "I admit, I was surprised to see you here. I did not expect to see anyone I knew as I arrived. Tell me, you must tell me. At first I was unsettled to find you here, but on analysis we have no more reason to fight. Please tell me, whatever happened to Ranma? He... he was your brother, wasn't he?"

Ranko sighed long and hard before answering that question. "Well, if you're here then you already believe in magic, right?"

Kodachi nodded.

Ranko's eyes closed in pain. "I don't wanna tell this story. Informing my mom was bad enough."

"Please?" The request was reasonably stated, and showed some emotion on the other side as well. "At first I merely felt attracted to him because I was alone, and he showed me kindness. Then, when it became obvious that I could not have him, I continued the pursuit so that I could be protected of that maniac fate made my horrible older brother, who fought all the harder on my behalf and was thus incapacitated all the more often. But when I saw you and felt, I admit, a flash of jealousy return I found that my feelings for Ranma were not as much a sham as I had thought. Please, at least tell me that he is well."

Ranko shuddered a few moments.

"Please?" This was almost begging.

"Okay." The redhaired girl scowled at herself, for being such a soft touch. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise to keep this a secret. I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

"I so promise, pigtailed girl."

"Call me Ranko, it's easier that way. And the tale properly starts in China. There, in a remote mountain province is a valley of cursed springs. The touch of the water there will turn anyone into whatever creature drowned in that spring, and there are over a hundred pools. Genma, and he's another story all by himself, took Ranma there before you met him, thinking it was an advanced training ground because he didn't speak a word of Chinese."

"That sounds most unwise," Kodachi allowed when the redhaired girl paused.

Ranko shuddered, saying, "There is no limit or end to Genma Saotome's dishonor, and his greed and his idiocy stretch almost as far." She would have spat the taste of his name out, but she was in her own bed and didn't want to soil the covers.

"I... note that you did not come here bearing his name." Kodachi said delicately, hoping to coax out the story for that one as well.

"Yah, like I said that's another story, and if I don't start at the beginning I'll never finish." The girl winced. "Anyway, both of them got cursed. Genma turns into a panda when he gets hit by cold water, and hot water turns him back."

Kodachi gasped, figuring things out from there. "But that Nabiki woman! She told me! And you were scared of..! During our gymnastics match, when I threatened you in the ring with that kettle of hot water!"

"Yah," Ranko nodded, depressed. "I'm Ranma. This is my cursed form, only now I'm stuck with it."

I O I O I

"Ranko... Ranma-sama, why do you trust me with your secret?" Kodachi trembled. "After all of those terrible things I did to you?"

Her response was a dry chuckle. "Well, my kneazle likes you. That's one reason. Another is that you never did act half as crazy as you tried to sound, and you helped me out when you didn't have to. That was pretty rare back then, and it stood out enough for me to notice. Also, nothing you did was half as bad as what the Tendos did to me constantly. Look, you don't really know what happened back there, do you? I mean, you were always out on the outskirt, just jumping in occasionally for a few fights. You didn't even go to the same school as the rest of us. So you don't know the backstory, do you?"

"Very little, I am afraid," the Hecate admitted.

"Genma was friends with Soun Tendo, and they both trained under the same master, an old pervert called Happosai. You probably saw him doing his panty raids, you did go to an all-girls school after all."

The gymnast nodded, feeling violated by the mere recollection.

"Yah. I see you've met him. Anyway, Soun and Genma made a promise to marry their kids together. So a couple of years later, after Genma had taken me all over China and Japan on a ten year training journey where we didn't stay anywhere for very long, he dragged me off to Nerima and basically retired. He sat down on his lazy ass with his old friend, some sake, and a shogi board never intending to move or work again. The trick is that I had to marry Akane and start up the dojo that Soun had quit running so I could support their lazy carcasses."

"I understand. The arrangement is not so uncommon in our home country. A side effect of revering the elderly, I am certain." Kodachi prompted, "But something tells me the arranged marriage did not suit you?"

"No. It didn't. From the start Akane was repulsed by my curse, and... well, whatever her reasons we never got along. Not a single day went by that I'd care to live over again. I don't think I had three happy minutes strung together, and I don't even want to start talking about her problems. I had the excuse that for most of my life I'd had no real human contact except for Genma, who was a perfect example of BAD behavior, so flinging me into an arranged marriage was throwing me off the deep end tied to an anchor. I had to learn everything from the ground up, but first I had to get rid of all of the useless garbage he'd burdened me with before I could learn how to behave like a human being and not a rat. Akane didn't have an excuse that I could see. The stuff she had to deal with was really minor by comparison and she behaved worse than I did. Her sisters and dad didn't help things a bit."

"And what of Kaneda? He was also a Tendo, was he not?" The former Kuno tried to keep this flow of information going.

The cursed girl chuckled miserably. "That was Akane, only she'd gotten her own boy-girl transformation. It wasn't a curse like mine, though, and she couldn't turn it off. It was a one-way permanent switch."

Kodachi quirked a grin. "So that freakishly strong lowborn commoner became a man? How fitting. One could tell it was going to happen when she came to school wearing a beard. Tatewaki told me about it."

The girl she was sharing secrets with snorted, in a very ladylike way.

"I doubt he told you the full story. She got both the strength and the beard from the same source. I stayed there most of a year, and she didn't start out so bad. But she was always getting some magic boost to power her up, and with each one she got worse and worse in temper and attitude. Akane didn't ever lose one bit of those powerups, either. The Super Soba was one of the first, if not the very first one, and it made her, as you so elegantly put it, freakishly strong. She hit me the day she got it and I didn't get out of the hospital for over a week. That was also the last time I let her get a free hit in on me. The consequences were just too dire."

Kodachi nodded attentively, and Ranko felt the need to elaborate. "It wasn't just the hospital stay, and it wasn't just her beard. She took me out of action, and with Shampoo and Ukyo and Cologne all worried about me they let Happosai eat a bowl of that soba in peace, and that was a nightmare from then on. But almost worse than a mega-powered pervert with no real limit on strength was that Akane got real messed up, even worse than before. She had to go to school with a big shaggy beard that wouldn't shave off (Happosai didn't mind his, of course), and when Sayuri, one of her closest friends, made a joke about how she thought I was usually the gender-confused one..." Ranko took a deep breath and found she was near tears, but forged on. "She slapped her. It was the first full day she had her soba strong muscles and, to be honest, she's never been all that good at controlling herself. But this put her more off than usual. Anyway, Akane tore Sayuri's head clean off with that swing, caused it to fly across the hallway and splatter against a wall like a melon shot out of a cannon."

Ranko trembled, and Kodachi laid a hand on her in understanding.

"I wasn't there. Maybe I could have stopped her, but probably not. Akane just got angrier around me, so perhaps it was best that I wasn't there to blame. It would've been me she killed, and I would've been dead before she realized she'd done it. Anyway, after gaining a beard and killing Sayuri, Akane went from Most Popular Girl to practically Untouchable and Unclean overnight. Nobody would talk to her or look near her unless they had to. Cologne says that she observed her lose bits of her sanity to that and denial, and I have to say that I agree with her. Even more than before, Akane could never be convinced that anything was ever her fault, especially not killing her friend. No one knows why she wasn't prosecuted for Sayuri's death, but most suspect your brother was the reason behind that. Even though he laid off talking about her and trying to date her, most think he protected her one last time."

Ranko had, by now, shrunk in on herself and wasn't paying attention to what her audience already knew and didn't. She was back there, reliving the memories and reciting them aloud.

"When I got out of the hospital Akane's older sisters had already grown terrified of her rages , and her temper tantrums were tearing up the house. Her father and Genma had bowed down, caving in utterly to the super-powered Happosai and became his active assistants once again. So I had to fight them and Happosai together, plus Akane and Ryoga started double teaming me every chance they got. Cologne says that I got substantially better in skill, and much faster and stronger over that whole period. Then they started to get in five way group attacks on me and I know I improved then. A couple of months later Happosai told me there was a cure for the soba-strength, but it has to be taken in the first twenty four hours. Fat lot of good that did anyone then, but of course the old freak didn't want anyone taking his strength away when he was vulnerable, so nobody could cure Akane's either."

"I think I have dealt with that sort of person before, Ranma-sama." Kodachi stated, before realizing that the other girl couldn't even hear her. That actually frightened her, that the fears of the pigtailed girl had gotten to her so badly, and she was so vulnerable.

"Anyway, sometime after that this Prince Herb from China showed up looking for what he called an 'Unlocking Kettle'. It turns out that his tribe lives near those cursed springs I visited, and they had magic items affecting the curses. This Prince had fallen in the Drowned Spring of Girl and somehow got splashed with a magic ladle that locked him in that form. But I didn't know any of that, got in a fight with the guy over something, and he splashed me so that I was locked too. We all went hunting after the Unlocking Kettle in kind of a race, Ryoga got locked as a pig and Mousse got locked as a duck on the way. Then, when Herb and I got into a fight over the kettle when we found it, we kinda brought the mountain down on us and the thing got smashed flat by a falling boulder. Herb took that personally and disappeared with his followers, and I haven't been a boy since first meeting him."

"I recall that day, you came and said to me that the boy of my heart would not be returning." Kodachi's voice was choked with tears as she impulsively hugged her former rival. "I hated you, and did not know what it meant to you, or what you had lost."

"Thanks, but it was worse than you know," The hug caused the real person within to surface for a moment before Ranko's voice dropped to a whisper. "Akane's dad had sworn that if I hadn't come back as a man, HE'D marry me to join the schools. So I couldn't ever go back to that home again. I went and asked Cologne if I couldn't stay with her at her restaurant. She said that was okay, so I did."

"A great deal of stuff happened. Cologne hired me on as a waitress, and without Nabiki scamming it all I had some spending cash for the first time in my life. They started teaching me Chinese, and in the process I learned to be better about my own language. Actually, it was the first time I'd been around real people who had an interest in my learning how to do anything but fight for them (though, of course, they helped me learn alot about doing better at my martial arts, too). I find that kind of amusing, that it took a group of what I'd thought of as backwoods barbarians to civilize me at last. My life improved substantially when I was there, and we went through a ton of stuff together, and always came back the better for it. My getting stuck as a girl even took alot of the pressure off, and I was able to really get to be good friends with both Ukyo and Shampoo during that period, also.

"Then came that trip where we all got suckered in to go to Toma's Island. Those guys had their own magic pool there whose water turned anything into mostly a man, kinda crossed a bit with whatever it was before it got changed. Toma showed us by dousing a crab, before he kidnapped all of us girls because they didn't have any on his island.

"Anyway, I made a mistake and tried to rescue Akane. She got offended and belted me a big one, flinging me out of that mountain and herself right into that pool of magic male water. Genma and Ryoga got to it, too, before the newly male Akane destroyed the whole place and sank the island. It didn't work quite like anyone had hoped. Akane came out the best, merely a 'pretty-boy' kind of guy who'd make a great crossdresser, and she did for a time give that a try until she finally noticed that she was the only one ever to use the girls' locker room. All of the real girls were too scared to say anything, but no way were they changing with 'her'. So they all lined up outside the nurse's room. I think that's when she finally gave in and started going by the suggestion her dad made on the boat ride home. Kaneda was the name he would've given her if she'd been born a boy, or so he said, an she used that.

"The others didn't turn out so good. Genma got thick, heavy nails like claws, long, sharp and pointy teeth, big round ears and a tail, and black and white fur everywhere except the top of his head. Ryoga was the worst. He got a pig's snout and curled tusks, two thick fingers and a thumb per hand, black fur all over so his head hair fell out, a short, curly tail and swine ears. He looked like some kind of fantasy monster, I think they called them orcs. Anyway, with those hands he couldn't use most of his old trademark weapons anymore, and he got a huge potbelly outta the change - because that's the type of pig he was, a potbellied pig. They're always small and cute, but it ruined his damage tolerance to have that lard all over. Every hit sent shockwaves out all over his body. Plus, he squealed alot, and grunted. That made him embarrassed to talk; and he ended up ugly as sin, so that didn't help him avoid feeling shy. Of course he blamed me for it, somehow. I've given up trying to understand why he thinks I am to blame for everything. I have to admit, though, his life sucked alot more after that change. Nobody thought he was cute anymore, and people even called out anti-monster squads whenever he hit a major town. So whenever he could, he stayed around the Tendo place and had Kaneda lead him around by a heavy chain leash.

"Things got worse for me then, as Kaneda got ahold of a magic Battle Dogi, and it shot his skill level from pathetic on up to where it was a real workout to avoid his super-strong, soba enhanced blows. Once he put that thing on, he never took it off or wore anything else ever again. As far as I know he still hasn't, and by the time I left he stank and the dogi was getting stained so badly it was changing color toward brown." Ranko shuddered. "But what really upsets me is what Akane/Kaneda used it for. She, or I guess he, wanted people to respect and admire him again, like they had before the soba. But the way he went about it was to approach someone, say something nice, and if they didn't immediately throw on a big smile and act like best friends Kaneda would get angry and force them, and if anyone did try to act as 'friends' he'd immediately make impositions on them. He became a phenomenal bully overnight. People started moving out of the area in droves. You couldn't get anyone to go to Furinkan. The whole school shrank to four students, and that was only because they wouldn't let Nabiki, Ukyo or me leave. Despite how terrified Kaneda made her, Nabiki was still one of the few people who could calm him down when he got angry. Miss Hinako helped out alot when they brought her in at last, specifically to control Kaneda. She really kept the freak squad under control. She was everyone's best defense against Happosai, and was just as great against his pair of student-servants, also Kaneda and Ryoga. All five of them together couldn't handle her. She and I got to be great friends for a good long time, until the end came.

"Anyway, sometime after that Princess Herb returned from China looking for revenge. She blamed me for the loss of the Unlocking Kettle keeping her in her cursed form, came back with dozens of various cursed waters, and started to throw them around using the Locking Ladle to try and 'motivate' me to find some other way to cure things. She hit the Tendo House first, thinking I'd be there. Even worse, she went in the middle of the night to catch everyone asleep. Kasumi got locked as a horse, Nabiki got locked as an octopus, and then things started to get weird. Herb used 'Spring of Drowned Invisible Yeti' on the guy she thought was my dad, and 'Spring of Drowned Man-Eating Old Crone' on Soun. It was only after I got here that I learned those are magical creatures, a Demiguise and a Hag. By then Herb had splashed enough people and woken them up that she had a fight on her hands. Kaneda and Ryoga drove her away with chi blasts fueled by anger and depression, and since she was not looking to fight them, Herb left shouting that I should hurry up with a cure if I didn't want more people cursed.

"Of course, I wasn't there, and no one who was could think clearly. Nabiki and Kasumi were helpless, Soun wanted to go eat the neighbors, and Genma had disappeared with their old master to go try out his new invisibility for stealing things. Ryoga ran off somewhere, while Kaneda just lost his temper and broke stuff. So I didn't get that warning and Herb came the next night to the Cat Cafe where I was staying. During that first night she'd lost many of the labels off the casks she'd been using, so her first move was to splash and lock Cologne with 'Spring of Drowned Twins'. The pair of her beat Herb down so fast that it wasn't funny. We'd all been training together against the omnipresent Tendo/Happosai menace, and she had gotten alot better herself by that point. She took the Ladle away and she mailed Herb back to China by slow boat cheap freight. The casks of cursed water had broken and gone down the drains during their fight.

"Then Ryoga came back, after having busted up some shop escaping from police in some other town and stolen a Magic Koi Fishing Rod on his way through. I don't know what the orc wanted with it, maybe to get some girl to love him in spite of his face, but anyway he didn't get to keep it. No sooner had he arrived back in Nerima than Happosai stole it from him and went to party. The old letch tagged Miss Hinako and one of our two Colognes before we even really knew what that rod did, and then they switched sides to protect 'their Happy' and suddenly everything went straight to Hell. Two of our heavy hitters had just changed allegiance, throwing all of the balance of power to their side, and from there everything just snowballed out of control.

"I tried to salvage things by fighting Happosai for that rod." Ranko shuddered violently from within Kodachi's arms. "And I failed. I got tagged by the rod too. I started to fall in love with that ancient, evil, perverted old freak. But he was just too crazy to stick around and solidify his victory. He had a district to enslave, and pretty ladies to ensnare. Nabiki pulled me onto Kasumi's back, and the pair of them got me back to our Cologne, who was waiting with Shampoo and Ukyo. They packed everything up from the Cat Cafe into trunks, and fled off into the night. I don't recall any of that, as I was well dosed with sleeping drugs.

"Anyway, Cologne took me to this mage-for-hire she'd just learned of in another district, and it turned out to be my mom. She removed the love spell from me. And Shampoo's curse wasn't locked, so she got rid of that too, but the locked ones are beyond her skill, especially since we had to leave the Ladle behind with the other Cologne, Happosai and his crowd. But we did get our bulk stockpiles of Jusenkyo Products, instant spring water and so on that mom is using to research a cure.

"Mom did something, some type of curse or other that works at a distance like a challenge or something, when she was removing that love spell from me, and no more magic devices are going to work for Happosai again, ever. The catch is that her curse is broken if he ever gets me caught with that koi rod again. According to what Cologne said (our Cologne not the one we had to leave behind because she'd been charmed by the enemy) Happosai has to use a scroll to boost his chi draining abilities every few years or he'll die. Once before he was locked in a cave and couldn't drain female chi, but he had some other kind of device that sent him into hibernation, and that won't work for him now. So I've got a soba strong, ancient pervert with grandmaster abilities running around with hordes of powerful followers, and who has to change me into his adoring sex slave or he'll die.

"The way my mom explained it to me is that he can't activate anything magic, but that stuff already in effect isn't changed. So those under the koi rod's spell don't get released, but he can't use it to ensnare anyone else, except me of course. About the only positive thing is if he dies the love spells are all broken, and we should see things shift our way again, a little. But if I die first he may get released from that curse. We aren't sure, and aren't going to risk that. Mom says that she's not certain, but people who follow Happosai because of magic constraints might not be able to use magic stuff either, until he gets cured. So it's doubly important I stay out of sight for a good long while.

"After I woke, I met my mom again and she explained that we could come here in search of a cure and hide out at the same time."

"So you are running from your past as well." Kodachi concluded, then sighed, hugged her former rival. "I spent the summer out of the country, and when I returned found a letter that sent me here."

I O I O I - START LEMON

Kodachi held the whimpering pigtailed girl to her chest, thinking things over and considering what to do. Then she silently came to a decision: Her Ranma-sama needed her, and what she had offered before was now called for.

The svelte gymnast slid out of her pajamas, casting a locking charm on all the curtains so they could not be interrupted, and doing all this in ways measured so as not to disturb her darling where she cried. Then she went about gently undressing her beloved.

Her beloved? Yes, she had never truly felt anything like this for anyone else. To her own surprise, what had started out as a gesture, then a successful measure to avoid Tatewaki had changed and grown without her even being aware of it into something much more. She put her head down, cradling the pigtailed girl's face to her chest, and began murmuring soft words of comfort while she reached out to stroke her back, then sides, working one hand around to her breasts.

Ranko's bosom was so large, even as an eleven year old! Her distress was so deep that she didn't even really notice as her own body gradually grew more excited. Kodachi put her own underdeveloped nipples where Ranko could both see or touch them as she pleased, and keeping one hand making long, steady, reassuring strokes along the pigtailed girl's back to offer comfort one way, carefully delved with the other, now devoted exclusively to those round, generous mounds of the redhead's bosom and making occasional forays into the V that formed between her legs, testing for hints of appeal or resistance and teasing her legs wide open so that her mate lay out across her with her own legs wide apart, offering her female center of being to gaze or touch.

Both girls were clad only in panties by this point, Kodachi because she hadn't wanted to move enough to remove hers, and the equally did not want to add any more shocks to her soon to be lover. However, she was able to apply a gentle touch over that smooth fabric to tease a swift gasp of breath from the girl.

Ranko's eyes came open then, and in them Kodachi found desire. She lowered herself to tease and meet with a tender kiss, which Ranko returned with enthusiasm, overwhelming the former Kuno with her response and surging up to overturn her and be on top herself, arms and knees astride her as her breasts dangled down, gently swaying.

Voice unsteady, low and husky, Kodachi offered throatily, "My darling Ranma-sama, as I had offered before, I am yours. You may do anything you wish to me. Please," she bent back her head and closed her eyes. "Make me your own!"

Ranko proved to be quite adept at pleasuring a female body.

Those things she did with her tongue! And her lips! There was just no way that any of them could be real! She must have sucked both of the gymnast's breasts at once, and licked her pussy all at the same time! While as an eleven year old her breasts were quite a bit smaller than before, and her chest was never massive to start out, cradling all of one of them inside her lips ought to be more than any girl could ask of her lover, and that tongue just managed to be everywhere at once! It penetrated her as deeply as any penis could have done, and the former Kuno just orgasmed explosively time after time, having her fluids lapped up with an energy that brought her over the brink again until finally she lost consciousness from the pleasure overwhelming her mind and overloading all of her senses.

Her throat had become a bit sore from her screams by the time she passed out and the pigtailed girl released her.

I O I O I - END LEMON

Kodachi wasn't sure when she became aware that she and the pigtailed girl were not the only ones in that bed. Her eyes blinked open in startlement to meet Ukyo's gaze, a blanket of purple hair across the covers an indicator that Shampoo was in there with them as well.

"So you got Ranchan talking about Nerima again, did you?" Ukyo grinned softly. "We've had to do this for him, too. Every so often he has to be reminded that people care, and that he really is a boy deep down, and making love to a beautiful woman is about the only thing we've found that fits both needs at once." The brown-haired chef shrugged. "So, welcome to the club. When this boy gets cured he's going to make you very happy."

'He has already done better at that than I could even have imagined' would have been Kodachi's reply, if she could have found the voice to speak it.

The pretty okonomiyaki chef suddenly went serious. "There's only one thing I want to ask you, girl: Don't hurt him. Whatever you do from now on, don't reject him. If you do, it will destroy him, and I'm afraid if you do that we'll have to kill you."

There was no doubting the serious intent of her words. But her face brightened immediately and there was an inward facing fear so as to take the hurt out of it. "The same applies to us, I'm sorry to say. We've all got to be careful of the boy inside of this girl's body. Nobody's immune, so we've all got to share the danger with the joys. You've just joined up, so you had to know the rules, that's all. When Shampoo and I agreed to share him those were the terms, and we quickly learned that it was more than just territorial feelings on our part. It was the way things had to work if our love interest was going to survive this."

"What injured my Ranma-sama's heart so?" Kodachi wondered aloud. Inwardly, a wisp of thought was still busy conjuring thoughts about when she could do this with him again.

Ukyo gave a sad shrug. "Ranchan's been rejected by everyone he's ever known; and that, sad to say, includes us, you, and even his mom. Sometimes the rejection wasn't real, like you've never turned away from boy-Ranma, and his mom never sent him away no matter what that louse Genma said, but he believed them at the time and it hurt his emotions as if it was a real rejection when Genma told him a tale or you attacked the 'pigtailed girl'. That awful family he stayed with didn't much help things either, Sugar. At her worst, Nabiki treated him like a chunk of meat without any right to have feelings, and Kasumi as an obstacle to having a clean home, and those were the nicest two in that household!

"Genma wasn't ever his dad, but he raised Ranchan and made him think he was. So when the lying thief turned against him to support Happosai wholeheartedly that was hard to take as he was losing the only lifelong companion he had to betrayal. Mister Tendo had called him 'son' and likewise turned against him. Ryoga was supposed to be his friend, and you don't want to know all of the dirty things he did to hurt Ranchan. Then Akane was by far the worst. She never stopped hurting him, even though he did his best to protect her. And that was probably the worst betrayal of all - when he had to go from protecting her to protecting himself against her, to protecting other people from her. She killed people he was trying to protect from her, you know. Smashed them dead while he was busy fighting Ryoga or one of his other enemies. She'd get angry and someone would have to die. That's it, no other reason. And it wounded Ranchan deep inside to have to regard her as a serious threat, an enemy to be stopped from killing, when all he'd wanted was to have her as a friend."

Ukyo lay down beside her, propping her head up on her arm before grabbing a pillow. "But I think what put him in this state was all that stuff there at the end, our whole flight from Nerima. Getting caught under a love spell by Happosai is enough of a nightmare all alone, but Ranma Saotome never loses, and we lost, Sugar. We lost just as hard and as bad as you can lose and got lucky we were able to scurry out with our tails between our legs. That broke his whole view of the world, Kodachi, and we've not had very long to help pull him back together yet."

The cute chef yawned widely, covering that with a dainty hand. Her eyes fluttered closed. "Anyway, looks like the slumber party was a big success. They're sleeping four to a bed out there, and we wisely reserved our slots with Ranchan early on, so we were the only girls to break that locking charm you put on the curtain and sneak in, then we reset it. I hope you don't mind a little crowding. Good night, Dachi."

"Good night, Ukyo-san." Kodachi whispered, wide awake from all this information as she listened to her bunk mates breathe deeply in their sleep.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

This is NOT your standard Ranma Universe, so it didn't produce your standard Ranma. So there you have your explanations behind his OOC behavior, and why and how everyone ended up here in England. Their massively AU history even sprang out of a very simple change - Akane never lost her powerups!

Sudden fits of inexplicably violent anger are Akane's single most defining characteristic, but coupled with super strength makes for a very bad combination.

And her 'all-passion, no-reason' approach to things does not lend itself to any great degree of self mastery. Spoiled children with super powers is ALWAYS a disaster!

If you want to see what someone does with great power, see what they do with a little - and Akane has never showed the slightest shred of self-control. So, when she had much more massive power... well, you get the story outlined above.

Nodoka is working on a cure, so Ranma won't be in girl form forever. But for now it does make for a very complete disguise against their pursuers for him to be ACTING out the girl part to the hilt, rather than resisting it all out and playing the tomboy.

And acting a girl as part of a scheme is something he's done before. The only switch here is the duration, that's all. Well, and the stakes behind it. It's only the future happiness of every person she's ever cared for on the line, that's all. 


	9. Chapter 9

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Nine

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Early morning things were already stirring in the Gryffindor girl's first year dorm. Some of the invitees had been morning people, and that activity just started to spread wakefulness to the rest. Ranko's bed was empty, all four of its occupants gone. The Patil twins were also missing as people started to wake up and take stock.

"Don't worry about them," Lavender informed Hermione when she inquired as to where the missing ones were. "I asked Shampoo about that yesterday, and there's a group that goes out with Ranko every day at dawn to do some exercises with our Defense and History teachers." Lavender giggled. "And, considering how good those professors look, I was considering joining them! I mean, who would you rather look like when you grow up, them or McGonagall? Or worse, Sprout?"

There came many feminine shudders.

"Hooch and Trelawney don't look so hot either." Parvati put in, brushing out her hair, in the act of pulling on robes. She'd just returned with some others for their morning practice in time to clean up and get ready for breakfast, all but Ranko (who had to go about her twice daily milking chore, and would get changed in her private bathroom in Hagrid's cabin).

"Come to think of it, I believe Malfoy and Cologne are the only teachers we have that I'd call attractive." Padma agreed, sliding into a blouse, fresh from the shower.

'Sinistra comes close, but I overheard her talking to Madam Pomphrey in the hospital wing about how she's gaining weight,' Lavender supplied.

All of the girls considered that, and what the possible implications were about how good looking they'd be during their own futures, and whose example that meant they had to follow if they wanted to change that in their favor.

"Do you have to call our History Prof by her first name?" A Ravenclaw asked.

"As near as I can tell, she doesn't have a last one." Another Ravenclaw answered. "Chinese amazons don't, on the whole." The girl who'd spoken had straggly, waist-length dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant silvery gray eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look, particularly since she didn't seem to blink as much as a 'normal' person. She had arrived at Ginny's invitation and spent the night sharing her enormous bed.

Hermione double-blinked. "Ginny, I know your friend has been taking the extra classes with us, but I'm afraid that I don't know her name. Could you introduce us?"

"Sure!" Ginny bobbed. "This is my good friend Luna Lovegood. She was at Kings Cross doing an article for the Quibbler, a magazine her father owns, about the students going off to school, and see if she couldn't get a shot of the famous Harry Potter. Then, when I started to sneak on she joined me on my prank. We're both a year too young for Hogwarts, but the way things worked out we're now official students!"

"I thought it could make a good story," Luna spoke up dreamily. "But it had to get dropped in favor of the Malfoy vs Snape argument our first day. Maybe it will make it through in a future edition, but dad wanted to save the space in our next issue for a full transcript of the first full contact brawl between Hogwarts staff members in nearly a dozen years."

"I thought it was the first in sixty," Ginny returned doubtfully. "Merrythought vs Slughorn at the staff Christmas party."

"No, you are forgetting the Filch vs Kettleburn match, scored as one of the best brawls in modern wizarding history, with nearly a dozen injuries." Luna returned calmly.

"But that didn't happen on campus," Ginny objected.

"True, however it was still staff members going at each other with fisticuffs. We don't count staff vs non-staff member fights in the same category, of course. Maybe we should keep a separate pool for on or off campus fights. I'll have to suggest it, because we came near to having to pay out the full pot of ten thousand galleons to a witch from Manchester, who'd bet on a Snape vs Malfoy fight for the second day of school, instead of the first, and she thought it'd be in Hogsmead. As it is she's bet on a rematch occurring sometime next week, once again in the Great Hall." Luna flipped through a notebook she had with her. "Her bets are on Monday, Tuesday or Thursday."

"You take bets on the teachers fighting?" Parvati asked, disbelieving.

"Five galleons a bet, the pot is already back up to two hundred and ten looking for our next teacher vs teacher match. Our current favorites are some hair pulling action between Malfoy and McGonagall, a Sprout vs Malfoy mud wrestling event, and by far in the lead is another Snape vs Malfoy brutal bash with blunt objects."

"Put me down for another Snape vs Malfoy brawl on Wednesday." Padma offered, getting the required coins out of her purse. A line formed behind her, with Susan Bones betting that McGonagall would hit Snape with a piece of tableware on Saturday.

Ginny would've loved to participate. She favored a midnight duel with swords on the grounds, ending with Snape pinned to a wall sometime this year, but didn't have the money.

"I can't believe you're all doing this." Hermione objected.

"You're just jealous that all the good bets are taken." Padma returned.

Further arguing got interrupted as Fred and George shoved their eager faces in the room, shouting gleefully, "Did you hear? Someone just burgled Filch's office! Everything's gone, including his list of what items are forbidden! Flitwick is trying to help him chase it down using Point Me charms, but whoever it was who did it had waited for Filch to come back to his office, set off a smoke bomb and hit him with a Confundus charm! Filch keeps asking kids to stop wearing socks - he swears they've been banned by the International Confederation of Wizards, and that caramel is going to kill us all! It's great! You'll want to come see this before someone finally manages to take the curse off!"

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "You two! Never mind that, did you help Ginny and Luna get into Hogwarts early?"

One of the redhaired twins shrugged. "Why, not to put too fine a point on it, should we care about silly old rules? She's a powerful witch, better suited than Ron (in our eyes) to start schooling."

The other naturally agreed. "Now, more to the point, we've got her in serious debt to us as well. She owes us a BIG favor, and so does Luna. We could do with some free advertising when we finally set up our shop. Anyway, we're not staying around here. Sooner or later they'll take that charm off Filch, and I want to hear more of his screaming that the mildew is coming to get him."

I O I O I

Harry was happy in Hufflepuff.

He was not sure how his life could get better. First, he had been rescued from his abusive relatives by a gentle giant of a man, who'd then told him that he was a wizard and showed him the wonderful world of Diagon Alley, where they'd bought him school supplies and he'd learned more of his parents.

Then, on the train to school where he was to learn how to use magic, he had met his sister for the first time, and already they got along famously together.

But surprising him most of all on this trail of events had been becoming a Hufflepuff. He had thought it might happen, and told Hagrid as much (who'd reassured him Hufflepuff was not the worst house to be in). But when he'd gotten here some kind of miracle had happened!

There was some kind of mechanism, a system in place inside of Hufflepuff that had been that way since the school was founded; since Helga took the dregs, the forsaken, any child the other Founders didn't want, she had set up a sort of nursery to take care of these little, wounded fledglings and put them back together again so they could be healthy and strong.

Harry had no sooner arrived in the Hufflepuff common room for the first time (it was near the kitchens) than the older students had already identified him as wounded property, and taken him aside to assess what had to be done about that.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about being immediately labeled 'damaged goods', but they had a point. He had to admit that his past fell far below that of every child's dream. Heck, it made up plenty of their nightmares!

The really great thing was his new housemates seemed bound and determined to fix that, inasmuch as it was possible.

The general treatment also surprised him. Where he later learned that other Houses simply went to bed that first night, Hufflepuff stayed up an extra half hour while the oldest students used a charm on the youngest, the new arrivals, and before anyone went to bed everyone in Hufflepuff knew the names of every other Hufflepuff.

That actually made a huge difference! You couldn't call on any older students for help if you were afraid to approach, and one of the best reasons to hesitate was because you didn't even know how to address them. But the Hufflepuff creed was loyalty, and you could not be loyal to someone or something you didn't know, while on the other appendage if you really knew that any Hufflepuff you saw would feel obligated to give you at least a fair shake and you knew all of their names and faces so you could recognize them when you needed them - That made it real easy to hold up your end of the bargain and return the favor to any other Hufflepuffs who stood in need of help from you.

So simple a thing, yet it had sewn up Hufflepuff together so tightly as to make the other Houses best efforts seem like sand to their stone. Being a year apart in any of the other Houses was grounds for being complete strangers.

Not in Hufflepuff. Never in Hufflepuff. That wasn't to be allowed. By the time you graduated a Puff you knew thirteen years worth of your fellow students: your own year, plus six years above and six below. And the six above you knew the six above them, and so on, going down in years as well, so every Puff graduated with a whole network of contacts who had their own friends and so on.

The first morning in the Hufflepuff dorms once again the oldest two years took the young arrivals and did a skills assessment. Harry, who'd lived in a cupboard for most of his life and wasn't allowed out unless that was unavoidable, obviously rated pretty far below normal and was set up for remedial coaching in just about everything. Interpersonal relations was big on that list, but also appearing came personal grooming, games and sports, everything that he needed to know but hadn't ever been taught. They even gave him a list of hobbies that they could teach and asked him for what sounded interesting. He hadn't been able to decide, so they'd set up a rotation for him to try all of them, but made sure to warn him that people liked most what they were already good at, so some of the better interests would not sound or seem so exciting at first and he had to stick with them for a few weeks to make sure if they fit or not.

They even assigned him a girlfriend!

Oh, it wasn't like that, she was a pretty sixth year with blonde curls. But she knew what he did not about how to talk, or dress, or act, and was willing to pass that on in a playacting sort of relationship where every time that he screwed up he got a gentle, even friendly, bit of coaching on what he needed to know, but didn't, on how to do it right the next time. It took so much of the mystery out of learning how to behave himself in certain situations that he soaked it all up eagerly, and even had thoughts about looking forward to doing this himself for some future student five or six years down the line.

But they had mock dates scheduled and everything. He was to learn how to dance and take her for a waltz, learn how to eat and make polite conversation simultaneously, and so on down the list of becoming a complete, well rounded person able to handle himself in any environment and make friends with virtually anyone.

Books and reading material had gotten assigned, mostly so that he could learn to converse on topics that he'd never previously thought about, but also some really good novels to encourage him to learn how to read for pleasure and enjoyment. The Ravenclaws might go after knowledge for its own sake, but Hufflepuffs had a different reason. They knew that a person who didn't know anything was boring and difficult to be around, hard to make friends with, and generally isolated without all of the shared interests that make for ready bonds and easy companionship with other people.

If you knew sports it was easy to talk with anyone who knew sports, and from initial contact make a friend. Other topics worked the same with other people who knew them, and so on. Know enough things, and how not to argue when talking about them, and you could make the most unlikely friends and approach virtually anyone with never a fear about breaking the ice.

His sixth year 'girlfriend' didn't miss a trick and that first afternoon they went out together to sit by the lake, dressed in comfortable yet attractive clothes as if for a date, and she'd asked that he take turns reading one of those novels to her - It had been one of her favorites when she had started this on his end half a dozen years ago. They spread a picnic lunch and ate grapes and sandwiches while they sat on the grass in the sunshine and read.

It was honestly the best afternoon he'd ever had since learning he was a wizard and going to Diagon Alley, and certainly better than anything before then!

Hufflepuffs had opened his trunk and gone through his clothes. Some they had transfigured to better things, others they burned and used the House funds set aside for this to go out and buy him inexpensive yet attractive replacements for casual wear outside of classes. Some of their tastes were decidedly odd, so Harry looked more like Buster Brown while he was on his first date. But he learned something special there too, and that was what did not bother your date should not bother you. She was from a wizarding family, and the clothes did not look ridiculous to her, so he should not feel ridiculous in them.

Everything about being a happy, well adjusted human being he did not know they were willing to teach. And one thing they explained to him caught his interest: Hufflepuffs always married well. Ravenclaws could get great jobs, and Slytherins often had wealth or powers, while Gryffindors were as well suited as anyone could be to carve out their own place in the world, but a Hufflepuff could have her pick of them to marry and share the rewards of their advantages because nobody else knew how to date or studied how to be romantic or just good friends like they did. And oddly, for that very reason, Hufflepuffs were most often happiest married to other Hufflepuffs.

After that wonderful date two of the oldest students, a boy and a girl, had taken Harry aside and asked some very difficult and uncomfortable questions about his home arrangements. And, once they had gone through an established arrangement of checks and confirmations, they took what they knew and filed formal charges against the Dursleys for child abuse, gross neglect and criminal misconduct, in the wizarding courts through a sympathetic former Puff in the judiciary system.

Another great reason for Hufflepuff loyalty was that they looked out for each other, and certain things you Did Not Do to a Puff without bringing them all down upon you.

So, when Dumbledore acted reflexively to counter the case and keep things quiet so he could still return Harry to the Dursleys care, the Puff who was acting as judge over this case came to Hogwarts and asked Harry permission, carefully explaining the reasons why. When Harry understood this was all meant for keeping him out of the Dursleys forever he gave the go-ahead, and the shocking expose was published in the Daily Prophet the very next day.

Aurors had to extract the Dursleys from their house in Surrey to avoid their being murdered by mobs of angry wizards who appeared on their door, wands blazing and revenge fires burning in their eyes. The first spontaneous Muggle Burning in ten years was put to a stop by removing that cruel and wicked family to protective custody - in Azkaban prison, where the warden (who was also a Puff) made certain they had a Dementor guard outside of their cells 24 hours a day.

Uhm, it was for added protection, really. Just keeping them safe and all that. Never mind the screams.

I said never mind the screams.

But before that happened (which would be on Tuesday), on the end of their first day of the term and their second night as students (Monday), when Dumbledore took out the Hat to do the reSorting, Harry had been astonished to hear that object address him from halfway across the room, and in between shouting to Percy that he was and always would remain a Slytherin no matter how many times he removed or put the Hat back on (as he was then doing) the object had apologized to Harry and tried to make him a Gryffindor.

Harry had refused, insisting on remaining a Puff to the cheers of his housemates. So the Hat had given him an opportunity (while McGonagall was protecting it from Ron and Percy's attempts to shred it) to be a Dual Hufflepuff/Gryffindor, and he'd accepted so he could get to see his sister more often.

Then Kodachi had approached the Hat very menacingly, but before she could give voice to a threat it had amended her House so she could be a Dual Hufflepuff/Gryffindor with Harry.

Then it had been her turn to go through assessment and so on that evening, just before the slumber party. She hadn't needed a boyfriend assigned, as she already knew more about style and etiquette than the rest of the House combined. But she was given three of their most trustworthy middle years as volunteer confidants, and encouraged to learn to trust other people and share her secrets a bit more. They'd scheduled an evening for girl talk together over ice cream so they could get to know each other and see if they'd work out as potential friends, and the girls were actually so charming Kodachi found herself being won over and not knowing what to do about that.

So she just went along, and became surprisingly good friends with Hikaru, Umi and Fuu. And as their link to the secret inner meetings of the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw fashion club, got to be a firm ally of her entire new House in short order. And it blew her away to have so many good people trust and rely on her, causing that girl to work extra hard to earn that trust and keep it.

Of course, she had to share that spotlight somewhat with the Bones girls, Ukyo and Susan, one a Ravenclaw and one a Gryffindor, who were now also Dual Hufflepuffs.

Slytherin was starting to feel awfully lonely.

I O I O I

At breakfast, the very next day after the slumber party, all Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls of the first years wore colorful dresses. The cuts and styling were still somewhat plain, being comfortable yet uncomplicated. They fit well, and they'd all chosen colors that suited them, so in spite of being plain patterns the clothes flattered their wearers nicely.

Only one or two older girls from various Houses had done as well, though more than a dozen had employed Charms during the night to add colored sleeves or patches to their otherwise dreary robes.

And yet, it was plain that a fashion trend had started, and the trio from yesterday were still at the head of it wearing fresh gowns just as gorgeous as they had on the other day.

Flitwick came in early, led by his pointing wand to one of the great fires that always burned behind a hearth in the Great Hall. When he confirmed what he was pointing at was ash, Filch, who had been following behind, grabbed his head and howled in angst like his life was ruined, and perhaps it was, as all records of past detentions had been in that blaze and gone up in smoke. Now he had nothing to read for amusement.

Then Filch curled up in a ball and started whimpering about big dogs landing on his face.

McGonagall made the rounds, passing out new schedules again, juggled so that whatever classes Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff were taking, Gryffindor could be in either of them getting educated along with either House.

When the post owls came flying in carrying mail, as they had the day before, there came in hundreds of copies of the Daily Prophet bearing the banner headline "Wizarding Savior ABUSED!" and a sub-headline "Muggle Guardians Tried To Beat Magic Out Of Boy-Who-Lived! Dumbledore Responsible!" Those articles were read in a gradually deepening silence as disgust and horror gradually gripped the hall - especially at the staff table.

Today there was also a glasses-wearing white duck in that feathered flock, and it angled out of the mail crowd, bearing an envelope and landing right before Ranko.

"You have a duck for a familiar?" Parvati asked, incredulous.

"Mousse is not my familiar. He's more of a friend, though we've done our share of fighting over things; like he'd still rather he be with Shampoo than me."

"An awfully opinionated duck. What's he got to offer her? Other than a good meal, that is." Padma agreed with her sister.

The waterfowl apparently overheard and turned to face the speaker, sprouting a half dozen throwing knives between its feathers. Ranko caught the animal as it drew back its wings to throw. "Not now, Mousse. And not her, you forget most people around here think of a knife barrage as intent to hurt, rather than a show of mild displeasure. So unless you want to meet the executioner who deals with dangerous magical creatures for the Ministry, tone it down a little around most people. Understand?"

The duck nodded and flew off.

Ranko opened her letter. Inside of the envelope were five pretty vials and a note in her mother's hand, which read:

"Dears, this morning you will take Potions. One thing you must know that I forgot to tell you, then forgot I hadn't told you, is that Professor Snape is a very highly skilled Legilimens - he can read minds. This often requires eye contact, but he's good enough that he doesn't need to speak the spell to do it. Of course, improper, unrestricted or casual use of mind reading is a very serious crime subject to harsh punishments by the Ministry. The use of Veritaserum is severely restricted by law and this could be far worse in the wrong hands, as it is subtler and harder to detect or defend against. Obviously, neither Snape nor Dumbledore care, and during your next class I would expect both rampant and blatant use of this skill against you. So I have prepared a potion for each of you to take that will protect you today. We will train you all in Occlumency for better protection, beginning sometime later this week."

Meeting her mother's eyes at the high table, Ranko lifted a bottle and received a nod, the note and bottles had come from her. That just confirmed what she'd felt touching the magical seal on each bottle, and feeling her mother's energy in them.

The girl cracked the wax seal and swigged down her potion, passing around the rest, and the letter to explain them, to the rest of their intimates.

"You'd trust a potion delivered by owl, er, duck, I guess?" Parvati asked before she'd read the letter.

"As you just saw, Mousse is a little harder to intercept than an ordinary post owl. Mom uses him when she wants something sent secure. He could probably kill most wizards who tried to stop him from making a delivery for mom. That duck may not like me, but he works for her pretty faithfully."

"Snape." Ukyo butted in with an alert. Already warned, the girls from Nerima took out sets of mirrorshades and slid them on. Ranko, as a chi adept, shuddered as she felt the man's presence come to a stop behind her.

"Why are you wearing those ridiculous glasses?" Snape snapped snidely.

"Ask my mother," Ranko told him frostily, with no sign of respect or disrespect, just guarded tones.

The Potions Master tossed a glance to the high table and saw Nodoka standing, one hand reaching for her bundle. Having no desire to be bashed across the room and humiliated again he dropped the subject for now. But he couldn't leave without a parting word. His pride would not permit it.

Professor Snape stared down his long nose at Ranko. "You know, but for the intervention of a flimsy bit of curtain I could have been your father." Swirling drapes had caught his ankles and tripped him up on his way out of the Malfoy Manor, so he'd subsequently lost Nodoka in the woods, having lost sight of her over critical moments and chased in the wrong direction.

Still gazing straight ahead, without deigning to turn to face him, Ranko replied, "Then I must remember to say a prayer each night in gratitude for a flimsy bit of curtain, and the horror that it saved me from."

Seething in rage and quivering in fear simultaneously, Snape stalked off toward the head table lest he do something then and there and get Nodoka attacking him before the school again. Another defeat like that last would be humiliating, and he was not done preparing his curses for the conflict to come.

I O I O I

As Nodoka Malfoy said her 'Good Mornings' at the head table she was puzzled to see Professor McGonagall smiling toward her more warmly than before. So she sat next to her old Transfiguration coach to see if she could worm the secret out of her.

She'd scarcely seated herself before she saw Snape stalk in and stop behind her daughter. Standing up, ready to intervene, she reached for her bundle, only to have Snape break it off before her child gave her a warning signal.

Still curious, she probed as he went by, starting a conversation to see if any interesting bits fell out, "So, Snape, what classroom are you going to be using for your lessons today? You should probably inform Minerva so she can give an announcement before everyone starts leaving after breakfast."

That was enough to get that vile fellow stopped in his tracks. Again, he used his long nose to stare down at her from a standing position. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you get your memo?" She asked in genuine curiosity. "I was talking with Professor Weasley until late last night, so I just borrowed her owl to send it to you."

The Weasley family owl came wheezing, coughing and gliding erratically in to the hall, only to drop to an exhausted bunch of feathers a dozen feet short of its goal, letter still clutched in its mouth.

Ms Malfoy fought the urge to sweatdrop. It couldn't be done and remain ladylike. Oh well, it would be better to see his reaction in person than imagine it. She addressed her enemy and summarized the contents of her note.

"Ah. Yesterday I was showing the class a re'em which I had purchased at great personal expense for my own use, and was generously allowing them to see some of what goes into potions brewing at the highest levels so the students could get a feel for the ingredients and more respect for the subject. All of the earliest sessions went beautifully. But your final class on Monday, as you'll recall, is your own Slytherin House, and when I went through the same explanation I'd given the other years about how valuable re'em blood is, one of your students cast a Cutting Curse at my animal! Naturally, it went rampant and before I was able to control it, it had charged all over the place. Madam Pomphrey tells me that your students will get out of hospital in a couple of weeks with no permanent injuries. And I only took away fifty points from Slytherin for destroying your classroom. Wasn't that nice?"

Snape's already waxy face went even paler in horror. Re'ems were extremely rare golden-furred giant bulls who's blood would grant a drinker immense strength, and was vital for certain advanced potions.

So not only was it on-topic, but so valuable as to have protections enough to render them untouchable for his revenge. So he had just had a giant bull noted for its enormous magical strength rampaging through his potion shop, and wouldn't be able to do anything about it!

McGonagall dabbed her lips clean, a strange smile on her face. "That's true, Severus. She was being most amazingly generous. I can recall you taking one hundred and fifty points off of a Ravenclaw for accidentally disrupting one of your lesser demonstrations. Who knows what it would have been had that poor girl done it deliberately, or if it had been a Gryffindor. I shudder to think how many thousands of points you would have taken in such an instance. Nodoka Malfoy, I approve. Although I insist that you give several detentions to the student who caused this fiasco." The Deputy Headmistresses nodded and went back to her meal.

Adapting to the flow, Nodoka smirked and nodded. "Yes, I think I should start by revoking his prefect status. No, I should prefer to start proceedings for him to be expelled. Wouldn't you agree, Professor Snape?"

"Of course he does!" McGonagall shot in before Snape could untie his tongue. "After all, the Potion Master is noted for being a most stern disciplinarian. And I could not possibly think of permitting his corrective actions to turn to any other course before he had expelled the pupil responsible for this most dreadful behavior! You have your official ruling, Professor Snape. I will have it in writing to you this afternoon."

Going paler than ever, and without excusing himself, Snape bolted from the hall toward his classroom to assess the damage. What he found when he got there would not be out of place in a post-apocalyptic muggle movie, with steaming pools of multicolor chemicals and smoldering fires amidst blackened and twisted wreckage. The carnage had spread through a broken down wall and was just as bad in his private office, if not worse.

A few minutes after Snape left the hall went quiet as Dumbledore entered and walked direct to face Professor Malfoy, displeasure in his eyes. Obviously something juicy was about to occur and both staff and students went silent to listen in.

"Ms. Malfoy, you did not come to my office yesterday as directed."

Nodoka dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

"I'm sorry, Albus. I was too busy with the extra classes you assigned to me. But if you are going to address me you must do so with some respect for my title. Your Grace will be sufficient."

Seeing his eyes bug out was perhaps worth it all alone. Ranko's mother laughed as she elaborated, "Royal titles have been for sale in Britain for over a decade, Albus. I'm honestly surprised that so few wizards have availed themselves of the opportunity. I had some gold just lying about and decided on a whim to join the nobility. So I went to a muggle precious metal dealer with some melted down galleons because the exchange rate the goblins give is just miserable. Then I became a duchess yesterday. Actually I now hold quite a few titles and had enough to spare that my daughter is now a countess."

Even though she spoke in a calm and collected, even refined and elegant, voice, her words carried the length and breadth of the Great Hall.

The Defense teacher gave herself another serving of delicious fried lizard; actually from the purple color it was probably dragon, which had to be specially prepared to be edible, but was supposed to be delicious if you could leech the poisons out. "My brother Lucius was ever so upset that I didn't get him one while I was shopping. He felt that he deserved it, but as I explained to him, until this matter concerning his turning me over to Snape for rape and enslavement is dealt with, I just could not see my way clear to do that for him. So long as it stood between us and the fiend goes unpunished for those crimes there was just no way. So, to add a little incentive I've decided to throw that opportunity wide open, and anyone who rids me of the threat of your Potion Master's Unbreakable Vow I'll gladly award with a barony of their own and a few thousand galleons to support them in their new estate."

"You've posted a bounty for his death?" Dumbledore's astonishingly pale face gave off a choked whisper, that was nevertheless heard throughout the hall.

"Pish tosh, Albus. Have you no faith in research? While death is the only known remedy for an unfilled and reprehensible Unbreakable Vow, there is so much that we don't know. I'd much rather have a solution that comes out of new discoveries, wouldn't you?" Nodoka almost gave him the opportunity to reply before adding, "But yes, his death would be sufficient, I suppose. I hadn't really given that much thought. You must know how I would never advocate anyone do anything illegal." Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth and some could swear she even formed a halo for a brief instant.

"Nodoka, you must retract your offer immediately!" The Headmaster ordered, rising to his full height with stern countenance and commanding voice.

"Nonsense. Think of the possible benefits from having a cure for the Unbreakable, Albus. Why, it might even be the first step toward breaking the Imperius! Such a benefit to the Wizarding World could be incalculable, and I'm not going to deny posterity this opportunity. After all, if Professor Snape is as well-loved as you seem to believe he'll be in no danger! Why, who would even think of harming him?"

'Everybody', was the unspoken through that echoed through every mind in that hall. Albus Dumbledore looked sick as he realized he'd either have to retract his own unconditional and 'blind eye' support of Snape's behavior and admit the cruelty he'd displayed to underscore his Potion Master's very real danger, or go along with his possible execution.

Either path was likely to be resolved the same way, with the loss of Severus Snape's life.

Then a third option occurred to him. Before he could implement it, however, Snape came charging back into the hall red in the face, a bottle of Veritaserum in his clenched fist, as he strode powerfully up to the head table and roared before the whole school, "My supply of erumpent horn is missing. She must have stolen it!" He stabbed a finger toward Nodoka, his face was purple with slightly out of control rage.

"Ridiculous, Snape. I just purchased a pair of erumpents live from Africa. Why would I go to all of that care and expense, not to mention the dreadful permits, to get a pair of animals to cultivate for their horns if I was going to get a supply from you? It doesn't make any sense. How much do you think I need?" The lady concerned refused to be ruffled.

"Then you did it out of spite instead of need!" He shot back in fury.

Nodoka calmly reached down to his fist, quite obviously plucked out the bottle she found there, popped open the cap of clear fluid labeled 'Veritaserum' and measured two drops onto her tongue. After smacking her lips, she spoke distinctly, "I have no erumpent horns that do not currently grow on my animals, nor does my family. The first time I went into your office in twenty years was to teach your classes as Dumbledore had directed me, and I left with nothing I had not brought in with me."

Finishing off, she tossed his vial of Veritaserum back at him and while he scrambled gingerly to catch it, administered the antidote to herself from her own supply.

Inwardly, she had to smirk. Of course she had no erumpent horn! She'd used it all to create other things. It was gone now. But having no flour didn't mean you hadn't baked a lot of cake to get rid of it.

And just because she hadn't ransacked his office under cover of the destruction caused by her magical bull, did not mean that Cologne hadn't. Enough acids had been spilled and fires caused to hide the loss of a great many things.

Even more than she knew, frankly.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Ah, it makes me feel so good to abuse Snape. After all, that freak of nature is ALWAYS dishing it out. But like so many childish bullies, seems so outraged and just can't take it! 


	10. Chapter 10

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Ten

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Potions class was being held in a quickly renovated room on the fourth floor, that had once been a potions classroom before Snape insisted on basement dwellings.

House elves had been busily employed cleaning out the dust and cobwebs, furniture had to be righted, or in some instances repaired. A party of off-duty teachers led by Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, had gone off to purchase ingredients for the student's supply cupboard that Professor Sprout couldn't just pull out of her garden. Snape was said to be in the basement salvaging what he could of the devices and instruments down there. That he was expected to arrive on time for class spoke eloquently about how little there was down in his former office to recover.

Ranko and her friends led the procession into the new, brightly lit room. It had a nice high ceiling to help protect from lighter-than-air fumes and avoid concentrating explosions, with windows designed to open magically, instead of breaking, to diffuse any blasts. The desks were wide and had their own water spigots, cutting boards, note tables, drawers and sinks; the whole chamber set up auditorium style so no one's view could be blocked by pillars or the back of someone's head before them. And between each station were high, invisible splash screens so no one had to suffer from any other student's failure sending out droplets affecting them or contaminating their own potion. That also limited opportunities for mischief or tampering with another's ingredients.

A quick look at the teacher's desk showed controls for triggering firefighting measures, winds from gale to breeze to help disperse gasses, rains either of water or flakes of some kind of dampening foam, and so on up to stuff whose purpose was not immediately identifiable.

It was, in short, a room in every way superior to the damp, cramped and obstructed room in the basement that had none of those safety measures. About the only thing the dungeon had that this room didn't was that it was dark, very dark, and the curtains in here were a bit moth eaten.

The dozen girls who'd studied and had a sleepover together entered and found places near to the front, all grouped together, while Ranko was explaining, "While they look nice on their own, we wear the aprons and gloves for 'messy work', like Potions or Herbology, and sometimes other subjects like the occasional Defense or Magical Creatures class. Aprons allow full body protection from the front, which should be anything we are working on, and gloves up almost to the shoulder keep our arms safe from anything that dragon hide could stop, which should be most everything they want students doing."

"Not to forget hats!" Shampoo added enthusiastically.

"Yah, Ranchan. Tell them why we are breaking with fifty years of fashion to wear our pointy hats. Everyone's been looking at us all morning like we were crazy or something." Ucchan groused cutely.

Ranko shrugged, her off-the-shoulder dress showing this off beautifully. She then touched the wide brimmed, tall pointed hat she wore matching the color of her frilly body garments. "Simple practicality in this case, just like the gloves. Anything dropping on us from above has another layer of dragon hide to get through before it can ruin our hair. Mom also added a veil all of the way around, you'll see. It's nice and transparent, even more so from this side, but it's also dragonhide enchanted to look gauzy and alluring. So if anything blows up in our faces it also gets stopped. We've got fresh air charms on the inside and could swim under water in these things. Plus, the veil magically adjusts so we can leave our faces free most of the day and only put it down for messy, potentially dangerous stuff, when it will guard all our bits from the collarbone up, down to the tips of the ends of our long hair. It's like the visor on a helmet, but cute so girls can wear it openly."

"And there other charms also!" Shampoo enthused.

"Yah, but I don't think we need to get into them." Ukyo demurred. "I think it's enough that we have our own face-shields. Nobody else has any, and today we're working on a boil curing potion. Those are famous for blowing up in your face over tiny mistakes, and the drops will give you horrible, ugly, painful blemishes if they hit your skin. If you get hit by much you'll look like a hag."

All of the non-hat-equipped girls were now staring dubiously at their empty cauldrons, as if they might rise up to bite them (which they could, if the lesson went wrong), and wishing they had veiled hats to protect their precious skins.

"For a first potion attempt this does seem an awfully dangerous one," Ranko agreed. "Why choose one known for exploding over simple errors? There are plenty of easy potions we could do that don't have any dangers at all, much less ones as bad as that."

Any further conversation got cut off as the door banged open and admitted Snape, who had a small armful of beakers and measuring tools with him, and as he entered he used his wand to close all of the window curtains before him so he was not struck by even a single ray of sunlight.

Since the room was much longer, some of the surprise of his loud entry was ruined as he had to go much farther to cross over to the head of it. The Professor stopped well before the teacher's desk, dropping his load of tools on the empty row before the group of girls and turning about to face the rest of them from there. "Put your wands away. You won't be using them in this class."

Though he seemed to mean that to the whole class, his scowl was directed at Ranko, who was seated barely the width of a desk away from where he stood towering over her.

"On the contrary, Professor." She replied calmly. "Hogwarts syllabus for Potion Safety as submitted to the Board of Governors says that you are to instruct us to have our wands ready in case we need to use any number of basic protection or cleanup charms it says you will begin this lesson by teaching us."

"Put. Them. Away." He leaned in close to be more threatening, and bumped his nose hard against the invisible splash screen. He reared back, glinting hate in his eyes. "And twenty five points will be taken away for talking back to a professor. Another sixty if you aren't prompt about obeying my instructions! Put the wand away!"

She put her wand in her holder, and gazed at him innocently over folded hands, her potion setup all assembled neatly and correctly before her, with ingredients already measured out.

Snape ignored that to stare offended at her mirrorshades, which the girls had put on under their protective veils when they'd heard him enter.

"Take off those glasses. How do you expect to see anything with those on? And meet me in the eye when I talk to you." He gave the order he'd been wanting to since breakfast.

"You know Professor," Ranko stood up to him calmly, making no motion to remove her shades. "For a known Legilimens to order someone to make eye contact is very similar to a known rapist ordering a young girl to strip naked. No authority a school is capable of granting gives you the right to do so, and Dumbledore could go to prison for letting you."

"Take. Them. Off." He repeated, in even nastier tones.

"But basic eye protection is recommended for all potion brewing. It is unsafe to order me to remove them." Ranko replied in reasonable tones.

Snape reached out to pull them off himself, and jerked his hand back in shock as the veil she wore dumped what looked like a lightning bolt into his hand the moment he made contact with it. Holding his now pained and smoking limb, he scowled at her. "Sixty points for failing to obey my instructions, and another hundred for your trap."

"It's only an anti-rape charm, professor, designed to prevent anyone from undressing me by force with intent to harm. Such charms are specifically allowed by name under school regulations and student dress code."

"Another ten for your cheek." Snape ignored his topic to berate her for a solid hour, before beginning to 'teach' which was more insults and humiliation, this time for everyone. He then penalized the whole class severely for not finishing the potion on time when he'd given them considerably less than half the period to do any actual mixing.

There were plenty of accidents, which Snape would then sneer about, only then informing them of what ought to have been done to avoid them. It was plain this period he was after revenge for his wounded pride, and everyone had to suffer along with Ranko, who stayed unruffled and by doing so fueled Snape's anger even more.

It was obvious that he hated the larger room as it made the class more spread out and he could not intimidate them by invading their personal space all at once. By the time he was done Gryffindor was down by five hundred points, and Ravenclaw by four-fifty. That was a record even by Snape's standards, and it was only his first class of the day. Most of those points came from Ranko objecting, calmly and reasonably, when he made demands he did not have the authority to make - and she pointed that out to him.

Ranko, Shampoo and Ukyo were the only ones to finish their potions in the much reduced time frame and when they put them on Snape's desk for grading he casually swiped them off to break on the floor. "Zero points for this assignment, all of you."

"That's enough!!" Two female aurors removed their invisibility cloaks from where they'd been hidden by the door. Both were in their early fifties, one newly sound of body. "This isn't a class, this is an abuse session for a sadist and petty megalomaniac! Severus Snape, you are under arrest!"

The teacher shot up from behind his desk in shock and surprise, and the female auror chose to take that as a threatening action, and stunned him on the spot.

The other auror was shaking her head in wondering disbelief. "Professor Snape has a legal obligation to act like a Professor, including living up to certain standards of behavior, setting a positive example, and obeying rules of conduct. How long has this flagrant violation been going on? And is he really a Legilimens? If so, he's unregistered, and the punishments for being an unregistered Legilimens are some of the worst we have on the books. It's worse than being an unregistered animagus. This is a farce! Who let that monster near students?"

"That would be me. Ennervate." Dumbledore appeared at the door to cast an awakening charm on his potions teacher. "And would you mind telling me what you are doing in my school?"

BANG!!

Everyone's eyes were drawn to Professor Snape, who'd begun to climb to his feet only to get beaned by a cauldron in the back of the head - one traveling with enough force to crush in the back of his skull and take him down far more seriously. He'd be incapacitated for much of the rest of that week even with magical aid.

Strangely, all eyes had been on Dumbledore and the aurors, so no one had seen who'd thrown it. Frankly, the aurors were too upset to care, and neither dared to turn their backs on Dumbledore, lest he Obliviate them. They'd been warned that he was awfully protective of Snape, and his appearing suddenly to interfere in their arrest by ennervating the man bore that out.

"Albus Dumbledore, you can get out of our way or be taken in for questioning." An auror seethed between her clenched teeth. "This man's 'teaching' is inexcusable, and we were brought in by the invitation of your Deputy Headmistress to observe this so-called lesson. No wonder my daughter gave up her plans to become an auror! She used to love potions until this 'teacher' of yours got ahold of her! And I'm of more than half a mind to bring you in for not disciplining him years ago!"

The other auror was equally mad. "We will get to the bottom of this, I assure you!"

Ranko, scowl on her face, walked up to the aurors holding out one of three Recording Pads she'd had active under her desk; a charmed item used by aurors to gather testimony in the field and legally admissible as evidence. Dumbledore frowned when he saw it.

"Is there a problem, Headmaster?" Nodoka appeared behind him, silver sword naked and gleaming in the dim light.

Dumbledore gave up on his plans to resist this arrest and Obliviate everyone involved. He'd seen Nodoka move, and she'd taken down Moody like the best auror in service was an infant. She could very well take his arm off if he raised a wand here. "No, I believe not, Nodoka. I was just about to volunteer to go with these officers as they took Professor Snape in for questioning."

Nodoka smiled with false politeness. "I'll go with you."

The gleam in her eyes told him that it wouldn't be his arm he'd lose, it would be his head. He vowed silently to take this problem on through official and legal means instead of more expedient methods, which all seemed to have been countered for now.

They left quietly, two aurors with a levitating Snape keeping an eye on Dumbledore who was also closely watched by Nodoka. Once they'd gone, Professor McGonagall appeared and spoke softly to Ranko. "Miss Malfoy, would you be a dear and accompany me? There is a staff meeting about to start and we would appreciate your testimony."

I O I O I

Professor Minerva McGonagall entered the staff meeting room with Ranko carefully in tow. "I am sorry for calling you all here on such short notice. But according to school rules we may specifically review point awards or penalties to judge if they are unfair. Last period Snape took off a total of nine hundred and fifty points from two Houses, and gave close to sixty detentions, forty five of them to one student. Ranko Malfoy is here to plead her case."

All eyes focused on her, many disbelieving. The trust they had in Dumbledore transmitted to many of their minds over to Snape, seeing as how their Headmaster protected him so much. Seeing that wall of disbelief, Ranko slumped. She'd far rather not have to go this far. But her mom had also told her to be ready for opportunities, and if she failed here then the staff would remain on Snape and Dumbledore's side for a good long while to come.

"I don't think I could describe it adequately. It's better if I show you. Here is a legal recording pad I had under my desk, you can all read the transcript there. When you're done reading I have a set of omnioculars that was running during the lesson. You can see for yourselves the period as it happened. Mom tweaked the playback so it goes by faster than it seems."

Using martial arts speed she pulled off one of her earrings and used a handy, built in charm to transform the jeweled pendant into a set of golden opera glasses with dozens of knobs and dials - a fairly standard appearing set of omnioculars. The speed at which she did so made her viewers think she'd pulled the set out of her pocket, and most failed to notice the missing earring. It was best if most didn't know she wore a set of recorders everywhere. They carried them because the girls were not yet skilled enough to use wands to make pensieve memories on their own.

First the transcript was passed around, faces going from doubt to dismay as they read it, some over each other's shoulders. Legal Recording Pads were used by the Ministry and individually marked and numbered, though some were for sale to the public. Their contents could not be altered without destroying the pads, and could not be fooled by polyjuice. As evidence, they were close to iron-clad, but rarely used because of their expense.

As teachers finished reading what had happened, those got the omniocular set and saw for themselves. Dismay went to disgust in short order. The entire staff, minus Filch (who was out keeping tabs on students), Dumbledore, Snape and Nodoka (who were out dealing with law enforcement either as advocate, suspect or witness respectively) got to see his appalling conduct and subsequent arrest.

Most of them had a great deal of respect for Dumbledore die as they saw what his servant was up to under the aegis of his personal protection.

"Well, that explains why Slytherin has won the House Cup the last ten years in a row." Professor Sprout, who was the last to view the omnioculars, had to wipe tears of disgust from her eyes.

"Inexcusable," Sinistra muttered.

Hagrid was merely shaking his head in shock, unable to believe that Dumbledore had been supporting that kind of abuse. Nor was the gentle giant the only one of the staff so affected.

McGonagall cleared her throat for attention before speaking. "I think we can all agree, then, that those punishments were awarded for unjust causes and personal malice, and therefore need to be revoked?"

She got a chorus of low spoken 'Ayes', most regretting they had dismissed similar charges over the years for lack of evidence, and assumptions that fellow staff members were correct unless proven otherwise.

Snape had ceased having that in their eyes during that meeting. The evidence had been overwhelming and the behavior they'd witnessed appalling.

"McGonagall," Hagrid mumbled, tears in his eyes. "If I can, I'd like ta move that Professor Snape be suspended fer gross misconduct."

"All in favor?" McGonagall asked, getting another chorus of 'Ayes'. "Then Severus Snape is no longer a teacher at Hogwarts until his conduct can be reviewed by the school's Board of Governors for disciplinary action, including possible removal from his position, which I shall put down as our recommendation. Thank you all, you may return to your classes. Ranko, if I could speak to you a moment, please?"

The redhaired student lingered behind as the staff evacuated the chamber, heads down out of shame and embarrassment, mostly stemming from having ignored a problem this long, even if that had been at Dumbledore's direct orders.

Standing before McGonagall, she heard the Deputy Headmistress address her in kind tones. "Well, I had not expected you to have enough legally admissible evidence on hand to convict in a court of law, my dear. It was well that you did, however. I had not anticipated so strong a resistance when we got here. I guess I'd not ever thought before that my own admiration of our Headmaster was far from the only support he'd achieved among the staff during his tenure."

"What happens now?" Ranko met her teacher's eyes guilelessly.

"Well, if I know our Headmaster, he is using his influence as head of the Wizengemot to get charges against his disgusting creature dropped, or failing that suspended for further investigation. However, as he is striving to keep him out of Azkaban we have already seen to it that Snape is no longer a professor and has no post here to return to, though I am far from sure that Albus won't think of something. Since he has Minister Fudge in his pocket for the moment I think this will be far from the last battle fought before we can remove Snape from our staff permanently. So, dear, I had wanted you to give me your honest opinion on something. Do you think your mother, or grandmother, would be more suitable to a post as interim Potions Mistress for Hogwarts?"

Ranko's brow furrowed prettily in thought. "Both could do it. Mom's got more projects on the side she wants to do, so Cologne probably has more available time."

McGonagall smiled. "Then could you find her and send her in to me? It is safer for all of us to have matters already in place and taken care of before the Headmaster returns from saving Snape's worthless hide. That way he'd require misconduct on our part to remove or review an already complete judgment, and we'll try to avoid giving him that chance."

"Yes, ma'am." Ranko skipped out of the staff lounge. She had Cologne back there in two minutes, and everything done and sealed up in time for lunch. They had a makeup Potions class scheduled for before dinner, and announced that to the school at lunch. Then she had Charms class right after.

Cologne began busily taking over Snape's classes on a more or less permanent basis.

I O I O I

The Potions classroom was the same as earlier that day, only this time the drapes were all pulled back to let in the glorious fading sunlight as it became a multicolor sunset. While it was pretty, the students filed in nervously, recalled the very traumatic experience of earlier that day.

Cologne wasted no time in putting their fears to rest, smiling and happy and wearing a hat and apron of her own. "Okay, young ones, enough with the hesitation. I know how bad the last teacher was. I can assure you than nothing will be exploding during this lesson, and that includes me."

"What are we going to make?" Hermione ventured enough bravery to ask.

Cologne smiled brilliantly. "Well, something simple and basic that teaches you all of those lessons you need to know, while being actually fun to make. Today we are going to start on a delicious, creamy fudge that just happens to be a deep blue and glows with internal stars, and every one of you that follows my directions correctly gets to keep what you make. How does that sound?"

Everyone hurried to their desks.

To undo some of the harm from suffering under Snape's hostility and crass behavior (often leading to students of many years hating his subject because of him) Cologne had planned a season where the students all made a wide variety of magical sweets, they also made their own enchanted fudge and enormous blocks of chocolate.

It taught Potions skills and got pupils interested in learning again, especially since they got to keep everything they'd made correctly. More to the point, it was a severe enough change to completely eliminate Snape from their minds after a number of lessons closely linked to how long they'd had to suffer under his brutality.

Against all odds, revulsion for that previously hated subject quickly began to reverse among the older years, and for the younger ones Potions joined History and Defense as their most beloved courses.

Nodoka, out of her own seemingly bottomless pocket, bought an extra textbook for every Potions student, and so they all got copies of "Cauldrons of Plenty, Sweets and Treats For Every Occasion", listing thousands of recipes for magical treats and substantially adding to their enthusiasm to take the course.

It was a book that Molly had wanted for years, but could not afford. Only Nodoka gave her one as a personal present when the new Housekeeping Professor voiced as much.

Interestingly, most really loved that part of the course, and anyone who could mix up a real wizarding floating upside down cake with actual rainbows for streamers and built in stars for sprinkles and sparkles could whip out most cures and OWL level potions, no problem. And it was vastly easier to want to learn if you started on the cake.

Once again, NEWT level students who had dropped that subject got encouraged to take advantage of opportunities to attend and see if they liked the course under a competent instructor. Most did, and Cologne declared that she was willing to take ANYONE regardless of OWL grades, if those slower students were willing to attend an extra period to catch up on what abuse and brutality had caused them to avoid learning the first time. It was actually surprising to Cologne just how many had given up on ever achieving anything because the teacher said they were worthless, when the truth of the matter was some had surprising gifts and virtually all of them were at least capable, once properly instructed.

She carefully made notes documenting those cases and got on with de-traumatizing them so they could catch up on what they ought to know. A simple, "But Professor Snape said..." was usually countered by, "Bah! I've been mixing potions for over three hundred years and I say you've got the talent. Who are you going to believe?"

Most often that argument worked, especially given that she looked sixteen. And that gave her teaching skills a chance to do their magic.

The young matriarch proved to be just as skilled a teacher of Potions as she was at History, and perhaps even slightly better as her students caught an enthusiasm for the subject that had not been seen during Snape's entire tenure. Some of the magical candies she had them concoct were really quite complicated and difficult (and consequently better or more unusual than anything they'd ever bought in stores), while others were quite easy. It gave her a useful gauge of their skills, and when students failed she let them have a taste out of her own batch, both as a sort of consolation prize and to let them know what they were missing so they'd try harder the next time.

The only homework was when a student voluntarily chose to mix up another batch of a bit of delicious wonder they'd previously missed out on by not getting right, or making a new batch of something they'd already eaten to revisit that flavor, all of which taught them more than any essay they'd even been given as homework assignments.

Honeydukes Sweet Shop in Hogsmead suffered a dramatic drop in business, however, as students began brewing their own batches of every assorted sweet.

The youthful amazon teaching was not slacking off, though, and she usually had the students brew something useful during the same periods. And like her candies, if they got that right they could keep it. Cologne was always sure to brew something they could use, and told them how it could be valuable to them, plus how much they'd have to pay to buy a dose in the stores. Again, once allowed to use their creations they paid more attention and often did extra study on them in between classes to satisfy their own curiosity - a curiosity that had not existed under Snape.

The practicality of those lessons began to really reach those hearing it, and they looked to have a bumper crop of eager Potion enthusiasts graduating in a few years. Even many seventh years who'd dropped that subject resurrected dreams of becoming members of careers requiring a potion NEWT and signed on.

Cologne vowed that she'd hold extra courses for those students so they could make up for lost time and at least reach Acceptable grades, more if they were willing. With the current job market so open for anyone with a Potions NEWT, an Acceptable grade was enough to get in to most careers requiring that particular qualification, and a few were even getting jobs with a Poor NEWT score.

A lot of dreams crushed by Snape were given fresh life by this announcement, and the subject began to revive under the tender amazon matriarch's care.

I O I O I

Dumbledore didn't come back til late evening, and when he did he got a nasty surprise. All day long the core of his arguments for releasing Snape had been that his skills at potions were indispensable and irreplaceable (he had not been able to say Snape's skill at teaching potions was great, as he had before, because of the plentiful evidence to the contrary now in the law's possession). Unfortunately for him, he came back to the school to find that Snape had already been replaced, and the students all abuzz speaking with some enthusiasm about how much better their new teacher was - and incidentally shredding his best defense of Severus' life and position.

Dumbledore had an outraged Wizengamot bogged down in procedures as the only way to prevent them from dosing Severus with Veritaserum to confess to his many crimes as it was. Getting him out without that additional evidence to support the case against him would be difficult, with it in their hands it could prove to be impossible. Already his trusted friend was under Dementor guard at Azkaban, wand back at the Ministry with aurors watching the vault while Snape lay shackled to his damp cell to await the investigations Dumbledore had hoped to delay. But time, it appeared, was not on his side.

It had apparently escaped his attention these many years how many Hufflepuffs hated his Potions Master, then went on to join the judiciary system. But in numbers they were not a few.

As Dumbledore entered his beloved school once more Minerva had stared him in the eye, over the shoulder of the Ministry woman she continued talking to about how wonderfully the new Potions Mistress was working out after her first full day of classes, and how much more enthusiastic the children were over the subject now that they were not being constantly abused - as she had witnessed over Snape's many years of tenure; but unfortunately her voice had been kept silent by the Headmaster.

Seeing the Deputy Minister of Magic and her entourage nodding during this discussion, and many students of all years who voluntarily came forward on their own to support the switch, or tell tales of Snape's abuses (which a trio of Ministry employees were writing down), plus the hateful gazes of his own staff and students, not to mention aurors keeping a keen watch on him as he paused nearby, and the scowls he'd gotten from every corner in the Ministry earlier as he'd done his best work to save Snape; the fact of the matter at last struck Albus that he was losing this fight so far.

Dumbledore had thought he was strong in politics, in this school, and in public opinion. Any previous threat to his stature in one of those areas could be countered by his mastery of the other two. Now he was under successful attack in all of those arenas with no safe haven to draw strength from while he fought in the others.

The papers revealing his role in the treatment of Harry Potter had given a near death blow to the esteem in which the public held him. That was a reversal, of course. However, should things have gone on as they had before he could have ignored that setback easily enough, safely sheltered at his school and pulling strings at the Ministry until the event had blown over, with just a few strings tugged here or there to cast doubt over the entire issue, until he could overshadow it with some public work and reclaim his reputation in full.

However, school was no longer the shelter it once was to him.

True to her word, Minerva had now turned against him. Nodoka was already a powerful force at the school and firmly set against him from the beginning. Though he was sure he could count on the rest of the staff to support him, Snape was his most loyal adherent and that aid was now denied him, leaving him vulnerable to his Transfiguration and Defense teachers, and those who knew or liked them on the Board of Governors.

That meant Hogwarts was currently a battleground, one at which he was sure to eventually win, of course, but hardly the bulwark he needed to restore the public's fading confidence in him. Yet even that he could have overcome if he were still strong politically.

At the courts Dumbledore had been surprised, astonished, and heavily dismayed to find that one of his oldest acquaintances, and fellow colleague going all the way back to school when they were classmates together, and a judge he was sure felt sympathetic to him, had threatened to clap him in irons, locking the Headmaster up in the cell next to Snape for the 'obstruction of justice' in defending his man.

Albus had been certain for years that he and the cranky old Hufflepuff had gotten over their school days rivalry and distaste for each other. And for years he was certain they had, but it had gotten explained to him during their meeting that the judge regarded the last century of Hufflepuff students as surrogate grandchildren, and the last ten years they'd suffered under Snape's cruelty had been unbearable for the well-regarded gentleman of the courts, awakening every old grudge he'd once held against Dumbledore until he could hardly stand the old classmate's presence.

Living and working as that old rival did among the courts and legal offices, he had much more pull there than Dumbledore could ever hope to achieve and had clearly decided that this was the moment to pull his old rival down. (His help might have pulled the Head of The Wizengamot seat out from under Dumbledore's ass in the mainline, helping Fudge when he turned against the old schoolmaster. Instead that influence was being put to use now.)

And, as if to underscore the general public's lack of confidence in him, as Albus had gone for a walk down Diagon Alley to greet some old allies, get some ideas or suggestions, breathe some fresh air and clear his head, he had been an object of disgust to the shoppers in general and many of his old friends among the shopkeepers had refused to chat or even be seen with him, shooing him out of their stores so they did not lose customers streaming out at his presence. It would appear getting caught disguising the shocking treatment of the Dursleys toward Harry Potter had gotten some speculation going that Dumbledore was himself a Dark Lord, hiring Death Eaters and torturing innocents.

It occurred to him at last as he headed, dejected, back to his office, that sacrifices might have to be made if he were to retain any of his positions of power at all.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Official scrutiny is the bane of people like Snape, and Albus too if you go by certain interpretations of his character.

But back to teaching methods, if you could learn the same thing by doing boring stuff, or doing something you loved, would you not rather do the thing you loved?

One again, motivated students learn! Unmotivated ones don't! 


	11. Chapter 11

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Eleven

by Lionheart

with thanks to Cypher3au

I O I O I

In a run down, deserted labyrinth of brick houses surrounded by broken and boarded up windows and with the chimney of a disused mill hanging like an admonishing finger over the lifeless terrain, two tiny figures were at work in the heavy, soot laden fog that blanketed that section of muggle London.

And both were six inches high, with fairy wings, and wearing ninja outfits.

"I like your style, girl." One of the tiny kunoichi told the other in low tones as they scouted a very old, very run down house. "Burgling Snape's house on the day of his arrest? Right now I'm dealing with a double load of classes and surrounded by students, and you've an even better alibi. You're at the Ministry surrounded by aurors at this very moment giving testimony before a judge."

"Time Turners do break so many rules." Nodoka agreed, concluding her study of the brick structure. "I expect that's why they track them so carefully."

For added safety, even though there was no one around they spoke very softly, and in Chinese. One of those dialects that sounds like another dialect and unless you get them straight you'll never understand what's being said even if you know the language. Adding Pig Latin modifiers to that was perhaps overkill, but what the hey? The combination would defeat any translation spells they knew of.

"Bah. Not so very carefully, I'd say. They still haven't discovered that I replaced some of their precious stock with ordinary hourglasses of the same size and make. I even rigged a shelf to break, crushing our fakes along with a dozen or so authentic ones, so they'll never be able to tell our switch. They'll just sweep it all up and not tell the magic dust from the fake it is mixed with. These people would never last ten seconds against real opponents. All of the aurors in England wouldn't stand a chance if our real foes come after us. Your curses and attack spells move pitifully slowly through the air, with no chance at all to hit someone who knows how to dodge."

"I expect that is why you, in China, did away with them to practice more subtle arts." The tiny duchess agreed. "Aha, I've found our entrance. On the roof."

The two ninja fairies flitted up there in a moment and Nodoka led the way to the chimney. "Oh, pooh!" She said, once she'd had a look at the top. "There is a grate. You know, this would be so much easier if we could use active magic! But Dumbledore is too good at tracing other peoples' spells and fitting them to their owners, and I truly do not want to give him any more evidence than he already has against us."

"The way things stand right now, no one would listen to his testimony, daughter. But you are right. It's best to deny him any traces just in case things change. Now stand back." Cologne touched a finger to the side of the brickwork and a hole about her size exploded out of the rock.

She answered Nodoka's look. "That's a chi technique, daughter. Breaking Point, and even if your Headmaster has heard of chi adepts he'll never track that trick. I've read his aura and he has no command of chi at all, so he certainly doesn't know the first thing about chi sorcery, and even if he did I'm better than he'll ever be and I couldn't tell who blew up a rock with the Breaking Point more than an hour after it happened. Natural chi flows break up the traces nicely, and this area is all dark chi which attacks the light chi I use. My signature will be gone in minutes, probably before we are. He could find us more easily from the lingering scent of a breath mint you took this morning."

Nodoka smiled under her mask. "I use a very popular brand that many others enjoy. I'm not so daft as to have a unique smell, considering my hobbies."

"My point exactly."

The pair of fairy-sized and winged Hogwarts teachers slipped in the new crack in the side of the chimney and made their way down, permitting their wings to glow softly now they were inside. They found their access blocked by the flue. Nodoka had brought along a metal-dissolving acid for just such an occasion, but Cologne told her to save it and just blew a new hole through the fireplace brickwork and into the home.

"It's the most secure trick we have, daughter. Most acids can be traced if you want to badly enough."

Nodoka tucked the vial back into her sleeve. "The whole point of this raid is to avoid leaving traces while we destroy some of Snape's ability to do us harm. I knew he'd guard the door, and found he'd protected the walls and roof as well. But his paranoia does have limits."

"Not so many as you'd think, child." Cologne told her, floating above the dressing table she pointed to a coffee stand. "Look."

"A turtle in a bowl?" Nodoka saw the reptile looking up at them. "Odd. I never saw him as the type to keep pets."

"He isn't, I'm sure." Cologne gave a soft laugh. "That's a burglar alarm, of a sorts. For a mind reader having a few pet turtles around the house is like having a muggle security camera set up. When he returns home he can check through their slow-moving thoughts to see if any uninvited guests dropped by and perhaps set death traps for him or stole anything. That's almost more clever than I can credit our Potion Master for."

"He got the idea from someone else, I'm sure. Now what?"

"We have to kill those turtles as we find them. If we leave them alive he's sure to know it was us from the pictures in their minds as they saw us, and I overestimate him a great deal if he doesn't have locator charms on them to find them if they get lost, should we try releasing them into the river." The matriarch was pleased to have encountered such a concept, and vowed to use it herself as she became a legilimens.

"I'm certain he would also have charms on them to let him know if any died, so he would know before returning home to expect any traps or ambushes. I'm sure that one or two times someone has filled his home with an invisible, deadly gas or some other such lethal surprise. Knowing if his turtles died would warn him in advance of most such. So I reiterate, this idea was too smart to have come from Snape. He must have copied it off an ex-auror or someone among the other Death Eaters, or read about it in a book somewhere. I know he is not above stealing other people's work. He was always copying my potions research in school, and even after graduation." The six inch tall lady scowled at that recollection.

"We'll return the favor. How is that?" Cologne took a potion bottle tucked in her broad sash belt out and swigged it, almost immediately growing back to full size, which as a teenager was quite tall enough to suit her. Nodoka did the same and grew as well. Both still dressed as ninja, though the wings disappeared.

The pair of them took out the largest available expanding bookbags and began to empty the book shelves that crowded every wall of this front room. The two ladies were being very careful to avoid any use of wand-magic at all, for fear of leaving traces Dumbledore could find. But strictly internal magic such as devices and potions only left such traces as they were created, not used or consumed. So unless they suddenly came over stupid and dropped something of theirs and left it behind, they were being very safe.

They raided that house for all sorts of things: Potions, ingredients, brewing equipment and most especially notes. Books of all sorts and sizes, some written by Snape himself and never published (a brief glance showed many to be on Dark Arts, others merely compiled information stolen or adapted from dozens of sources). Other valuables were trivial and a few even powerfully cursed, or otherwise trapped against potential thieves.

"Not a very trusting man, is he?" Cologne chuckled as they opened the secret door behind the secret door in the bottom of a functional muggle fridge filled with mold cultures and other esoteric and even gross things. They had found a turtle in every room, so far.

"That reminds me, check out the ice before leaving. He's probably got diamonds hidden in among them, or something. I don't trust how much money we've found so far, it's too small an amount. He gets paid more than this, even considering expensive hobbies, and Snape is trafficking in both Dark Arts objects and brewing controlled or illegal potions for sale on the black market on the side. He must have more wealth than this. Not even he would miss so obvious a trick as to note how much power money brings, and he's not one to indulge in expensive luxuries like my brother is."

"Tut tut, daughter. You forget that Snape is a spy, a betrayer of both sides. Dumbledore could well be the only human being to trust him to any degree at all. He'll have some ready cash around the house, of course. But that's just to cover expenses. If he's any good at all he'll have a good half dozen stashes of cash or other valuables, along with preserved food and other necessities in various places, some in this country, some outside of it. There is so great a danger he'd have to rush off and hide on short notice he'd have been a fool not to have a bolthole or two prepared where he could vanish for a time."

"Then again, he could just hide it all at Gringott's." Nodoka said, having just discovered a key hidden in a bowl of flesh-dissolving fungus where most people would never look, but she had probed a few times with a fork.

Cologne blinked in shock at the lack of professionalism such a hiding place displayed. "I'll admit, he's been a fool at enough other things. Arrogance, that's a downfall I've seen many times, and Snape just reeks of it. My, would you look at this?"

"What is it?" Nodoka crowded nearby to have a look down the most recent secret door discovered.

"Snape keeps zombies in his sub-basement. Lots of zombies, from the look of it. What do you want to guess they are guarding, down here all alone behind so many curious secret panels and clever locks?"

"Something worth guarding would be my guess. Probably, no, almost certainly something far more incriminating and dangerous to have around than zombies themselves are. Either that or he just prefers to have undead party guests as more equal to his own lack of wit. It could also be why this neighborhood is deserted, of course. I wouldn't put it past Snape to have killed everyone in the neighborhood and kept the bodies around as servants, just in case he needed to release a horde of undead to cover his own escape, get revenge, or something."

The amazon nodded. "Dead neighbors is almost certainly where he got them, especially judging by those old clothes they are wearing, muggle fashions about twenty years out of date. But my guess is he keeps them downstairs in his own house only to guard something he feels is important, but doesn't trust to Gringott's."

Nodoka sparkled. "Well, we've cleared out the rest of the house. Shall we see?"

Cologne looked back over their handiwork. The furniture was all in sticks barely bigger than a match, but they'd uncovered so many secret compartments doing that as to get a real fine appreciation for the man's obsessive paranoia, or at least that which he'd felt during his old master's reign of terror. It was also obvious that he'd slacked off since then and gotten more careless about hiding things. Once upon a time he'd probably had to endure a search or two by Ministry aurors, but that had all stopped since acquiring Dumbledore's patronage. They'd found illegal Dark Arts tomes open and bookmarked in the living room, with notes scribbled in his own hand!

Having ripped open all of the walls they'd also found a fair number of small secret rooms and signs those had not been used actively in a long time. A very long time, as Snape hadn't even appeared to know about most of them. It seemed another wizard had used this house back in the prosperous days of this district. The darkest items they found in most of those closets was a nose-biting teacup in a box clearly labeled 'prank items'. Though that hadn't stopped them from stealing the invisibility cloak or other things they'd found in the forgotten closets.

"Yes, daughter. I am very curious as to what he conceals so carefully after all this time. He's had a noticeable drop of security in other areas. Why is this one still guarded so closely?" Cologne led her adopted daughter in a crab crawl across the ceiling of the dungeon room they had discovered, above and out of reach of the zombies, and they were through the door on the other side before any of the undead could react.

"Oh, piffle! It's just an old potions lab, left over from the Era of Voldemort, I imagine." The disappointed matriarch sniffed disparagingly, then flicked the side of a case of human bones and rolls of skin. "Along with some very dark potion supplies. I should have guessed."

"Not just any potion supplies, Cologne." Nodoka's eyes glittered as she read the labels on one case with hundreds of drawers. "Most of these are very illegal, and quite dark, but over there you can see a setup ideal for producing large batches of Post-Cruciatus potion, and right here in this corner we have a factory for Polyjuice. I'm looking at hair samples taken from hundreds of witches and wizards, dead and alive. I suppose Snape just hasn't used this place since the war ended. Oh, look! Here are samples taken from Lily and James Potter!"

"We'll grab the tools, and the chest if you think you've got any use for old bits of hair. But I think most of this place needs to burn."

"Quite right." Nodoka said, grabbing the hair sample chest and tucking it in her second to last expanding bag. "Post-Cruciatus is an important resource to have if you are fighting Dead Munchies, and even more important to deny to them, as their master uses his favorite curse on them more than anyone opposed to him. Their performance degrades if they've still got the cramps, soreness and twitches left over from him torturing them when he sends them out on assignments. Polyjuice is another lovely thing to have lots of when you need it, and just as ugly in their hands."

Nodoka continued speaking as they both industriously began packing away tools and stuff for closer examination later. "I'd offer to expose this place to the Ministry, but turning it in would be tricky and our Headmaster would just use the excuse that Snape didn't know about it. Pity, but we can manage to make his life difficult enough without Ministry assistance."

"Good. Let's set fire to this place when we're done. There's no one alive for blocks in every direction and the district could use some renovation. First we'll feed Snape's turtles to his zombies, to be sure to get rid of them. Then we'll set this place on fire."

I O I O I

Severus Snape gasped as he hit the floor of the cell hard enough to have the wind knocked out of him. Shivering as he pushed himself back up into a sitting position, he managed to sneer weakly at his jailers, who countered with much more confident smirks. "Don't bother locking the door; Dumbledore is no doubt already working to free me."

"Oh, he's trying, we'll give him that much, but seeing as how everybody else in power is working to keep you here, I recommend you get comfortable. In fact, we put you in the cell next to an old buddy of yours, just to make sure you don't get lonely during your stay." The Auror slammed the door shut and strolled off, whistling merrily. "Have fun you two!"

Snarling, Snape took a moment (and several deep breaths) to calm himself before moving to the bars of his cell. "Who's there?"

First there was silence, then shuffling, before a rasping voice answered from the neighboring room. "Who's asking?"

"Severus Snape. Do you remember me?"

"...Snivellus. How could I ever forget you?"

"NO!"

"YES!"

"NO!"

"YES! ...hey, wanna hear a couple of hundred knock-knock jokes I made up?"

"NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

I O I O I

Ranko finished milking Bella, but left without feeding the other animals, calling back over her shoulder as she left with the milk jugs, "Don't forget, it's Time Turner Day!"

A moment later Ranko came out into the stables from the other entrance wearing a chef's hat and apron with a cute little shrimp on it. She marched over bearing a large meat cleaver and came to a stop in parade fashion in front of the large water tank, before throwing back her shoulders and announcing, "Present, Arms!"

Nabiki, huddling in the bottom of her tank, shook her head frantically 'No!'

Ranko leaned over the tank, hiding the meat cleaver ineffectually behind her back. "Aw, c'mon, Nabiki. You know octopi grow them back. How is this worse than taking pictures of me half naked and selling them to perverts? You know it isn't, and I haven't had a good bite of seafood in days."

The seafood in question shrank into the smallest form she could arrange and huddled away in the farthest corner of her tank.

Ranko posed casually. "Hey, you know all those times you blackmailed me? Well, this is your turn. You don't eat today."

She tossed the meat cleaver over her shoulder to 'chunk' inches deep into a wooden beam on the other side, bent low, picked up the bucket of chopped fish and walked away from her, placing the food by the door, well out of reach of the aquarium.

As she came back by, she dusted her hands off against each other, passing by Nabiki's tank on her way to Kasumi's stall. Playing Tuesday over again was weird, in its own way, but then if there were to be any person on the planet acquainted with weird it would be her, so she got along just fine.

The redhaired girl greeted the mare and fed her a lump of sugar, eating one of her own as well. Seconds later they were both invisible, and though it would only last fifteen minutes, that was plenty of time. Ranko open the stall door and mounted the chestnut bareback, and the pair of them surged out of the stables, galloping down moss green lawns of Hogwarts on the way to Hogsmead where Nodoka owned a small house under another name.

Slowing the gallop to a ground eating trot (the slowest she could convince herself to go), the mare approached the small cottage out on the edge of that village, vaulted the white picket fence in back, and eagerly came to a stop outside of the back door, her invisible sides quivering in anticipation as Ranko slid down from her back and found the correct key.

That had been a different run for both of them. Having been through the Riding Barn Ranko was now an equestrian of great ability and the fluidity and harmony of motion had been enough to grab both of their attentions in spite of the preoccupation both had with what they anticipated toward the end of that run. Kasumi had been practically kicking down the walls of her stall all of last week in eagerness as this day approached.

Finding the right key, the redhead opened the door and both cursed individuals surged in past the concealing portal. Slapping the wood shut again cut off all view, and Ranko eagerly pawed open a purse she'd carried with her, freeing two potion bottles with clear labels.

Being a gentleman even when he was a lady, the cursed martial artist popped the top off of the one marked for Kasumi and upended the colorful vial into the horse's upraised mouth, whereupon the animal began to gulp it down enthusiastically. Ranko had open and drunk her own bottle faster than she'd ever fought her father for rice.

The changes came swiftly. In some ways they were disturbing, in others reassuring, and neither noticed nor really cared about a trifling discomfort as they felt themselves alter.

There was a full length mirror in the back hall, where they now stood, that Nodoka had put there for that purpose. It showed invisible objects as visible ones, and even though it would only be a few more minutes until the enchanted cubes of sugar wore off, both stood before this device to watch themselves change, not able to wait the extra seconds until they could see themselves in an ordinary fashion.

Both changes struck at once, and though it hurt a bit neither flinched from staring at their own reflections as Kasumi's horse shape shrank and shifted, rearranging itself and swallowing hair to become the girl Soun had once called daughter revealed in all of her naked glory.

Ranko watched spellbound as her own body's features changed, grew, and gradually transformed back into the male form, the boy he'd been born as: Ranma. The daughter of Nodoka had stripped to watch herself restored to this form, and both stood reverently for half a heartbeat, just glad to see themselves again, to be who they truly were once more, at their own true ages and everything.

Things held that way for an awesome moment, then both young people exploded down opposite halls to two of the three bedrooms, to the clothes and things set out there. Kasumi went by way of the bath, the oldest Tendo daughter relished the pleasures of bathing as one of those things a horse couldn't do. Feeling clean was once one of her highest priorities, although soaking was not the source of contentment that it once was, as any horse could do that. No, the pleasure lay in having hands, in manipulating faucets and bath tools, scrubbing with soap, using fingers and shampooing one's hair - all of it centered around being a tool-using person again and not a hoofed animal.

Every other week, starting twenty eight days from when they'd first arrived here, they'd done this. Tuesday was Kasumi's day to do this with Ranma, Thursday was Nabiki's, and clothes for each of the Tendo daughters were available for their tastes and sizes in their shared room. It also had a bed, but they'd never used it. They always hoped they would someday, though, and in that case they'd probably have to add a bunk above it because the room, like the house, was small.

Basically, Nodoka only owned it to provide a setting for the kids normal moments.

Ten minutes after parting to go their separate ways the duo remet in the kitchen. Ranma had cooked up a snack while Kasumi was in the bath. Still heady from being in their normal forms they ate it in a rush. Then they grabbed each other in a frantic hug, both of them wanting to talk at once, only Ranma restrained himself so Kasumi could go first.

"Ranma! I am SO glad that your mother modified the polyjuice recipe so that it works on animals! I SOO look forward to my hour! We have another forty five minutes. How do you want to use it?"

"Actually, Kasumi. We have longer. My mom invented a longer duration polyjuice potion for us because she didn't want to worry as much about the material supply. We have twelve hours together today."

That response was worth a kiss, so she gave him one (mostly out of joy, only partially because kissing was something that horse's lips won't do).

Then Kasumi giggled, relaxing against him, feeling a release of tension now they had almost a full day. "It was awfully clever of her to summon our hairs and fingernail clippings from our rooms at home. I only wish you could use polyjuiced hairs to make more polyjuice, then we could stay human forever!"

"As it stands, we still have to ration it." Ranma agreed. "But look on the bright side, twelve times as long! And knowing my mother, it's not impossible that she will discover a new use for an old charm, or tweak a potion so things get even better. I'm not supposed to tell you this yet, she doesn't want anyone to feel disappointed if it doesn't work, but there is some hope for what mom says is a partial cure for you guys."

Kasumi melted warmly against him. "Ranma, I am so glad."

Still hyper over being human (or male, in Ranma's case), the pair decided they'd go out to see the town together. One meal they'd already had Ranma had fixed. Kasumi insisted she would do another because she liked feeling useful and using tools, both at once. But for the third meal of their day they'd decided to eat out just to be around other people as their true forms for a while, when before they'd never dared to venture much out of the house.

On that note they went shopping throughout town as well, holding hands (because horses do not have hands, and fingers intertwining was a luxury the eldest Tendo girl didn't feel she could ever get tired of) and laughing, singing, skipping, twirling...

They looked like the absolute picture of a happy young couple out for a day together.

Shopkeepers and residents smiled to see the 'newlyweds' as they termed them, and when Ranma pulled out his wand to do something like dry Kasumi's dress after a full five minutes splashing through a stream, the Hogsmead matrons became at ease over the new young wizarding couple that had bought the house out on the outskirts. They were magic folk, and very much in love from what they'd seen.

Kasumi was happy to be alive in a way that she'd never been before, and if she wanted to dance Ranma was only to happy to oblige her, reveling in the feelings of being a male out with a pretty girl, even if none of it could last.

Sadly, those happy times passed fast and do not bear much explanation. All too soon they were a horse and girl again, riding back to the darkened stables outside of Hagrid's cabin, not bothering with invisibility in the very deep night. Only a single magic candle provided any illumination within.

Ranko walked back into the stables, leading Kasumi by her reins and stopped as she came across the octopus tank. Nabiki had somehow pulled the cleaver from out of the wall, and it was now lying on the floor as two of her tentacles emerged holding a third, which had been severed, offering it to Ranko as she entered. From the amount of nicks and cuts on her other various arms it had taken her quite a few tries to cut the one off.

Ranko dropped the reins in shock and ran over to hug Nabiki's head sorrowfully. "Oh, you poor girl! I didn't mean it!" The redhead released her hold and went into a blur where she sealed cuts with her wand, treated wounds with potions and reattached the severed limb in just a second. Then it was back to holding the mollusk in a comforting hug. "Cologne thought this would motivate you to start using that body of yours. We thought you'd drag yourself over to the door to get your food. We know you can. Oh, but Nabiki I never thought you'd do this!" The gorgeous girl started to cry over the octopus, which, after a moment started to return the hug and stroke the girl's back with a few well bandaged arms.

Kasumi nosed the slimy limbs, offering her own comfort, before trotting back to her stall.

Ranko was sobbing into Nabiki's many arms. "The school stuffs me with seafood! Don't you ever, ever do anything like this again! You hear me? I love you too much. You're one of my very few friends in this whole, dark, cruel world and I don't want you to hurt, ever, you understand me?"

The girl got incoherent in her sobbings, though a keen ear might have made out, "Especially not over me."

Moments later she sobbed out, "Mom makes a new form of polyjuice now that lasts twelve hours. You can be a human all day with me, Nabiki. And when your hair runs out we'll get one of the other girls to volunteer a few strands, so even after then you'll still have time as a human girl! And mom says that she's close to a cure. Oh, hold on Nabiki! Please, it's not been that long and won't be all that much longer. Please be strong. I didn't mean to make things worse for you. I'm so sorry."

The octopus just continued to stroke her back as she cried.

I O I O I

Morning practice had arrived and the dozen girls who had become a study group of sorts under Nodoka's sponsorship were out on the Hogwarts lawn practicing martial arts. The Patil twins were only about a week ahead of the majority of girls there, yet they were the best of their year... mostly. But the exceptions were all obvious.

Ranko was simply unbelievable, though her mom was good, clearly far better than Genma (to anyone who'd ever seen him fight) but just as clearly outclassed. Cologne was up there in the realms of defying belief herself, and it was really too close for most to judge if she or Ranko was superior. The few times the redhead had been the victor in duels past she'd had to put her all into achieving them, whereas Cologne never lost her cool. And, to be honest, there was nothing to be gained for her in defeating Ranko during those times she'd put her all into gaining a win, as the amazon elder's goal had always been to get the young one into the tribe, and that couldn't happen with Ranko dead.

When Ranko really wanted to win, death was just about where she'd push herself to avoid a loss, and the amazon elder didn't want to go near there. Ranko was no good to her dead.

Ukyo and Shampoo were both good. They were very, very good. So for those novices joining them for the first time today there was very little to tell between those martial blurs zipping about at high speeds, rarely touching the ground.

Except for one.

Kodachi stood upon the dew-soaked grass dressed in her typical green leotard with a gym bag at her feet filled with tools, watching those zip about above her and marveling.

Seeing herself useless in such company, she turned about and began to instruct the beginners, as her years as lead gymnast of her school's team had conditioned her to do quite well. These ones were so raw even the simplest of exercises were challenging, and yet the Black Rose had worked with far worse and turned them into ladies of skill, if not too great in the ethics department.

"Sorry, I'm late!" A beautiful Gryffindor with mountains of bouncy brown curls skated up and twirled to a stop before the study group. "I almost had a run-in with Filch, who seems to think that students should be kept in cages when not in classes. Luckily, that old Quidditch helmet he's taken to wearing since Snape's 'accident' (dating back to before safety gear for wizarding sports was outlawed as 'too boring') banged on something, and I was able to get away before he spotted me. Oh! Are we starting with gymnastics?"

"They are what I know, and what I am qualified to teach." Kodachi shrugged. "And since the more experienced fighters among us are all occupied with sparring..."

"They only do that for ten minutes or so before taking a break and starting with our instruction - then they go back to trying to kill each other again, only take it as some kind of challenge to keep watching us and correcting us even while they fight." The Patils girls did one of those 'twin things' where each spoke a couple of words and the other took over, making complete composite statements without apparent effort.

"Spooky." The brown-curled Gryffindor girl shivered.

"Well then, if they disapprove of my methods they are free to change them." Kodachi smartly replied to the twin's statement, and promptly took over the class as lead gymnast, teaching the girls basic moves to build stamina, grace, dexterity and strength so they could get on to the meat of the fighting arts as they became ready for them.

Azusa helped her out so well that the noble girl had to ask, "has there been a change? Back before you were always a little... flighty." Not to mention the age change, so she didn't.

The figure skating legend got embarrassed, blushing. "Ranko's mother wasn't the only one to flee Voldemort on short notice, chased out by curses. Mine did as well, only my mother got hit by one as she escaped, and she was carrying me. My parents went to the States for a time, but relocated to Japan when western medical magic was unable to heal me. It was Ranko's mother who finally lifted the curse off me that gave me infantile behavior all of my life. I'm still trying to catch up on learning what I missed. So redoing six years is a good deal for me all by itself, not to mention starting my magical education, which my mom says I am finally responsible enough to learn."

"While I had a different reason," said a boy from behind, startling them so they jumped.

They turned about to see a Gryffindor Prefect, only he was still only a fourth-year. He had on fairly typical Hogwarts attire and a pair of large glasses under brown hair and a kind smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't introduced myself yet, have I? I'm Tofu Ono, but everyone around here just calls me Tofu. You may not recognize me, but I remember both of you from back in the old country. Kodachi, I even recall giving you your shots before you started school. Anyway, I was performing research on some magic mushrooms a client had brought in last year and accidentally tasted one, getting shrunk back to thirteen. I couldn't see any way to restore my normal age, yet when I told my mother she thought this was a great opportunity to pick up on the family trade (since I couldn't marry or be a doctor for a while). So she sent me here to Hogwarts as a transfer student in time to start last season. Now I'm a prefect one year early. I guess I impressed the Head of House with my maturity. Say, how are things in the old town?"

"Not well," Ukyo was the first of the major-league martial artists to drop out of the sparring, sweaty and grabbing for a towel and a drink, wincing at bruises. "A gang of toughs led by Soun Tendo's perverted old master have basically taken over. They've had every kind of magical boost imaginable on their side, and we got driven out."

"Hmm, I'm sorry to hear that." The chiropractor told her.

"Nevermind," the chef shoved herself to her feet with a happy grin. "Let's get on with teaching the next set of martial arts legends."

I O I O I

Packing it up and in hadn't taken long, and everybody had gotten worked out to their own level for best advancement, so it was a satisfied and somewhat sore group that headed in for the showers as the group practice session terminated in time to wash up and dress before breakfast.

Kodachi watched Ranko sprint off to do her morning milking, and concluded that she could not catch up to her without it seeming rude, so she chose to walk beside Ukyo on their way in and get her questions answered that way. "Kuonji-san, I fought with you once or twice when you came to the old town," (she noticed everyone around here seemed too shy to say it, so adopted the custom), "And you even joined my gymnastics team for a while. Yet back then you were not nearly this good. What happened, if it is not too rude to ask?"

The brown haired chef smiled fondly. "It's not rude, Sugar. You and I are on the same team now. We need to know these things about each other, things like I'm a Bones now. Ms. Malfoy got me adopted by the head of magical law enforcement so I could leave behind most of the problems of my past. And basically I improved so fast because of Ranchan. I don't know how it started, but she got seriously into learning the styles of all of her opponents. And not just learning, but mastering them as well. It wasn't enough to defeat a guy, she had to acquire all the techniques he knew."

"I think I know how that started," Azusa volunteered from where she was skating alongside of them. "One day at the public skating rink Mikado, my old partner, gave Akane Tendo a kiss and she went home crying about it. The next day Ranko Tendo came to beat him up, and I saw her turn her head at the last second and get kissed on the ear. It made me giggle, because he hates the taste of earwax and she's only the second one to ever avoid being mesmerized by his gaze as he closes in. I was the first, but that's because I was distracted by a pretty bottle. Anyway, she followed him around for days watching how he did it, and when we met for the Charlotte Cup she already knew all of his attacks and could perform them as well as he could. She must have taught her boyfriend because Ranma gave me the Dreaded Kiss Attack, and did it better than Mikado ever could. My partner never quite managed to do it on me, but Ranma did."

"So you were my Ranma-sama's first kiss?" Kodachi didn't know what to think of that.

"That's what Ranchan said. We were talking about romantic things later." Ukyo confirmed.

"It was mine as well. You try kissing a martial artist with a three year old mentality. I couldn't hold still long enough for most to do it." The legend confirmed, then giggled, blushing. "Poor boy probably thought that Mikado's attack was just a part of figure skating. But I enjoyed it."

"I should hope so, you followed him around for weeks pestering him for another." Ukyo had to smile. That was how she'd met the skater, hanging around her Ranchan pestering him for another kiss, and getting them, too. Albeit reluctantly and after many challenges.

"I got them, too." Azusa twirled about happily. "All I had to do was challenge him to a contest he couldn't win, like math or science. And make my stakes a kiss. That Tendo girl always flattened him after, of course."

'Immature and flighty, but a certified genius at everything she'd ever attempted.' Both other girls had the same thought, recalling what they'd heard concerning the bouncy, brown haired girl that was once one half of the famous Golden Pair.

"But then the National Tournaments started and I had no time for play. Of course, I took it anyway, but couldn't get back to Nerima so often." Said legend pouted. She spun to focus a glittering look on both other girls, hands clasped before her. "You don't hate me for having Ranma's first kiss, do you?"

"Hate you? Never!" The okonomiyaki chef brushed it off with a wave and a grin. "You taught me to figure skate, remember?"

"I did not know you two knew each other. And no, I do not hate you either Shiratori-san."

Ukyo shrugged, and smiled winsomely. "It was part of Ranchan's 'Always learn everything that an opponent can teach you' style back in that town. Since he was always out practicing something or other I found the best way to spend time with him was to practice alongside of him. Of course that meant catching up on some of what he'd encountered before I arrived, but he was willing to teach me what he could. That's why we transferred those four weeks to join your gymnastics club, Kodachi. Shampoo and I were learning all we could to try to stay apace with Ranchan. We never quite reached his level, but it was fun trying, and going on all of those adventures with him. If I hadn't been hanging around so close to him Shampoo may never have started, and he might have ended taking Akane on all of those trips and things."

Azusa skated close and gave a playful 'I've got you now' poke to Ukyo's sternum. "And I bet that had nothing to do with that Dreaded Kiss Attack Ranma stopped your fight with when you arrived."

Ukyo blushed and glanced away. "Well, maybe that had something to do with my hiring employees to run my restaurant while I spent time with Ranchan, but that may have ended up happening anyway. I was thinking about it. And I think we did him some good by going along and being with him. I have my doubts that he could've picked up Martial Arts Dining if we hadn't been there for him. Getting your tongue to stretch like that is not easy. If it wasn't for some of Shampoo's knowledge of Chinese pressure points and herbs and tricks I don't think any of us would have done it."

"And Shampoo was doubtless as affected by Ranma-sama's Kiss Attack as I," Kodachi demurely stated, blushing furiously at Ukyo's words.

All three girls laughed and headed off to baths.

After doing her own wash-up and getting ready in her private bathroom of Hagrid's cabin, Ranko walked into the stables to do the milking and Nabiki dropped off the ceiling to land on top of her, startling the girl out of her wits. But that didn't stop Ranko from counting tentacles, "One, two, three... six, seven, eight! Yah! Resealing the severed arteries worked! Hurray! We put the limb back on and it stayed!"

She gave the octopus a big, wet kiss before dropping her back off in her tank and giving the mollusk a high-five, palm to sucker, each taking care to be cheerful for the other.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Like I said, a very non-standard Ranma world led to a very non-standard Ranma, and that naturally dragged some of his closest companions along for the ride.

Also, for the moment, in acknowledgement of their difficult situation, everyone is going just a bit further to help each other. That includes Nodoka providing polyjuice to help ease the animal lives of Tendo girls by providing human moments, it means Cologne providing training ideas for octopi, and... it means Nabiki trying to overcome her selfishness, even if that was done not quite the way they wanted. 


	12. Chapter 12

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Twelve

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Around noon, two Hogwarts students were heading across the back lawn to Hagrid's cabin. The older one, a sixth year blonde girl, was carefully instructing the younger, a boy.

"Harry, you get an invitation to dine with an important person and you are expected to bring your girlfriend along if she means anything to you. That way she knows the same folks you know and you build your social circle together with shared contacts. Shared friends is one of the best ways of cementing a relationship. Now if a girl is uncertain of you, or you of her, she doesn't have to come along. But we're playing as though this is serious because anybody can have a shallow relationship. It's the deep ones that take effort. And that means that I get to come along. Besides," she smirked. "This is too good an opportunity to show you how to act at parties. Hufflepuff starts having our own around the second week of the year, but it never hurts to get in an early start. And you could use an opportunity to catch up to the rest of the first years in social skills anyway."

The pair of Hufflepuffs walked in the open door to Hagrid's cabin to find themselves awash in conversation, with over a dozen girls and several adults already in there talking.

"I don't see what's so special about Hogsmead." Cologne was saying from nearby. "Okay, so Britain has only one all-magical village. Too bad. China has dozens, if not hundreds. Our own Ministry of Magic can't find them all. I come from an all-magical village myself; I know of a handful Japan has. Over in the orient we never got into the 'Pureblood Magician' farce that hit so hard over here in Europe. We'll marry how we please, and as a result our numbers expanded instead of contracted and are much higher than the inbred morons over here who have been married to their cousins for hundreds of years."

Hagrid was listening to this, enthralled by it, while other conversations went on behind.

Nodoka smiled gently, arriving with drinks. "Magic use is a dominant trait. Our percentage of the population over there is so high magic lines have actually gotten lost among the muggle majority. We don't have anything over there like the Hogwarts Magic Quill that writes down names of magical children as they are born. So descendants of powerful magicians have grown up ignorant of their heritage. Ukyo is one such."

"I thought she was a Bones." Hagrid blinked, and appeared to be somewhat drunk. That had happened much less of late, but he still drank heavily sometimes. Apparently this was one such event.

"Oh, Harry!" Nodoka clapped her hands in delight upon seeing the pair standing uncertainly in the doorway. "Look everyone, our guest of honor has arrived!"

The next moments were so awkward that Harry could never have made it through them without his date's expert assistance. But she knew how to deal with the sudden cheer, and showed him how to wave and bow and smile then move on to something he found more interesting.

"Hagrid, you asked me to lunch today, right?" The famous boy inquired.

"Aye, Harry. That I did." The gentle giant beamed a big grin then shoved himself unsteadily to his feet, making slow deliberate steps over to the nearest table. "At firs I was gunna wait an ask ya ta tea on Friday, after yer firs week o classes. But Professor Malfoy, she's a gem, she is, anyway she came up wit an idea we jest couldn't wait on."

As the half giant seated himself at the table, the Boy Who Lived saw in the center of it a big cloth thrown over what looked to be a bowl. Hagrid beamed, then removed the cloth from concealing it. Underneath was a broad yet shallow stone basin surrounded by racks and racks of bottles, carefully marked with dates and places, with short descriptive sentences.

From his side as he stood looking wondering at this strange object, Nodoka bent low to inform him. "It's a pensieve, Harry. And seeing as how I missed your birthday I give it to you as a late present. Once I'd heard your story, how you grew up without your parents, I went about to all of their friends still surviving and collected memories. You get to see how they grew up, who they knew, what their homes were like, several of their dates, the first kiss and wedding, and bringing you home from the hospital. Even how bravely they fought in several battles. It's all here for you."

Everyone was speechless in anticipation as Harry reached forward and grabbed any old bottle from the nearest rack, uncorked it and poured the contents out into the bowl. Then he touched it with his finger and was gone, mind reviewing the events of the memory while his body stood frozen. The wait was still and breathless, and when he came back to himself his smile was so broad it had to hurt, then tears spilled out all over and he broke down in mindless crying. His date held him to her chest, granting comfort to him and a slight shrug to the rest of them. "Harry is very grateful. Thank you." She supplied warmly on his behalf.

"But that was a happy memory." Ginny said, confused.

"I know." Ranko answered. They'd made sure the rack of happy times was closest for him to grab, but she understood and explained for the rest of them. "It's only now that he knows who he's been missing all of these years. He now has people to grieve for. Before it was just names and shapeless longing. Now he has a mother and father, but they're lost before he could share his life with them."

Nodoka patted her daughter on the shoulder. "Exactly why we are doing this, so he knows them for the wonderful people they were."

Lunch was served without much talking, but it gave Harry time to collect himself and by the end he was still teary eyed, but effusive in his thanks that at last he'd get to know the parents he had no other memories of.

Nodoka broke in as they began to serve dessert. "Oh, Harry. I was going to ask: Would you like to spend the Christmas holidays with my daughter, her friends, and me? You don't have to worry about Draco or his father, they are spending the vacation separate from us."

The loyal Hufflepuff looked up from his food. "Can I bring my sister?"

Nodoka crouched down to look him level in the eye. "My dear boy, you are allowed to bring along anyone you like. Just so long as you like them and they aren't some stranger trying to catch a free ride to my party."

"I'd love to come, Ms. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting me." His date answered, unruffled.

Harry was chuckling. "I don't think she meant that as a jibe at you, Aphrodite. But loads of people have been trying to, I dunno, but I could probably invite half the school if I wasn't careful."

"I know it wasn't meant for me." The perky blonde responded cheerily. "But I wanted to point out that she was a little careless phrasing things that bluntly with me here beside you. If I was anything but a Hufflepuff I might have been offended."

"That reminds me." Harry spoke up, looking out over the crowd of well wishers. "Why don't we all do that charm? I'm sure to forget people otherwise."

There was blinking among the audience.

"What charm?" Hermione asked.

Aphrodite drew her wand, standing up. "We do this in Hufflepuff House every year. This is a simple spell to help recall names and faces. I don't know why everyone doesn't use it."

I O I O I

The staff had been ruthlessly threatened, on pain of their jobs, not to reveal that Snape was on probation until the Board of Governors had a chance to meet and review his case for a suitable punishment.

To everyone's surprise, this prohibition on talk had not come from Albus Dumbledore, but from Lucius Malfoy, a member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and through Minister Fudge who was very much in Lucius' pocket.

Several eyes had gone to Nodoka for explanation, and she had merely shrugged and told them she had never been very close to Lucius, and she would not have been in the least surprised to find out that her brother was a private customer of Snape producing potions (and Dark Arts supplies) on the side.

Either way there was very little she could do about it.

Apparently the lure of a barony was insufficient to draw her brother's support away from his favorite supplier of questionable potions and Dark Arts objects, and without the security, influence and tools available as a Hogwarts teacher, Snape's abilities to produce potions, poisons and illicit goods for sale was going to be greatly reduced.

Dumbledore winced greatly when Nodoka conveyed that conversation to him in front of the other staff, and it got revealed that Snape had been running a Dark Arts factory for illegal and forbidden objects right under the Headmaster's unsuspecting nose.

He was saved the outright hatred of his staff by admitting, "I am done protecting him. I had already concluded that the greatest good came from no longer defending Severus."

That had relaxed the crowd and they had then adjourned for dinner.

The Defense teacher stopped the Headmaster on his way into the Great Hall bearing the Sorting Hat. "Oh Albus, I've been wanting to ask you: Did Voldemort take Arithmancy?"

Pleased at the normalcy of that request, or at least the indicator that her attention was shifting off of him, Albus smiled in response, pausing to explain, "I don't believe he did, at least not formally. However, he did devote an exceptional amount of time to independent study. So it is possible that he picked up a thing or two."

"Thank you." She nodded in gratitude.

Albus walked into the Great Hall smiling, and set the Hat down on a stool. "I know that another reSorting has been requested. It seems that young Percy Weasley is not yet done trying his luck. He and his brother Ronald both still want another House. So if there are any other interested candidates, please let them come forward."

"No." The Hat objected from where it sat.

The smile fell off the Headmaster's face in astonishment. "I'm so sorry, what did you say?" He bent around to look toward the Hat.

"I've got a headache." It complained. "And I want a drink."

"A what?" Dumbledore could not believe his senses.

"I don't ask for much, just a little drink now and then!" It shouted out loud across the hall.

"I suggest that you start singing." The Headmaster informed it in unusually frosty tones for him.

"Oh, very well." Opening up it's mouth, it began a long hymn.

"Beethoven's gone, but his music lives on,  
And Mozart don't go shopping no more.  
You'll never meet Liszt or Brahms again,  
And Elgar doesn't answer the door.  
Schubert and Chopin used to chuckle and laugh,  
Whilst composing a long symphony,  
But one hundred and fifty years later,  
There's very little of them left to see.

"They're decomposing composers.  
There's nothing much anyone can do.  
You can still hear Beethoven,  
But Beethoven cannot hear you.

"Handel and Haydn and Rachmaninov  
Enjoyed a nice drink with their meal,  
But nowadays, no one will serve them,  
And their gravy is left to congeal.

"Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds  
With their highly original sound.  
The pianos they played are still working,  
But they're both six feet underground.

"They're decomposing composers.  
There's less of them every year.  
You can say what you like to Debussy,  
But there's not much of him left to hear.

"Claude Achille Debussy-- Died, 1918.

"Christophe Willebald Gluck-- Died, 1787.

"Carl Maria von Weber-- Not at all well, 1825. Died, 1826.

"Giacomo Meyerbeer-- Still alive, 1863. Not still alive, 1864.

"Modeste Mussorgsky-- 1880, going to parties. No fun anymore, 1881.

"Johan Nepomuk Hummel-- Chatting away nineteen to the dozen with his mates down the pub every evening, 1836. 1837, nothing."

By the end of this Dumbledore was not very happy, and some of the students were laughing. Amazingly, Ranko managed to beat the two unsatisfied Weasleys to the punch by jumping over everyone's heads to get to the stool. Hands perched on dainty hips, she asked of it. "Excuse me, but you said that first day I was all but perfectly suited to three Houses. I just want to know what the third one is."

"Hufflepuff." It told her in sour tones. "You're loyal to a fault. You have fought, bled, come close to death, and killed out of loyalty." It told her in tones that covered the hall. "So your foe didn't stay dead, but that did not stop your hand from slaying him to rescue the one you loved. All you had to do was turn away and let your friend die and your foe would not have pursued the matter, but you battled until you came close to being destroyed even though he was much more powerful than you at the time. Just about everything you've ever done you did for someone else. You sought to be the best at your trade because you thought your father demanded it, not for yourself. You'd make a terrible Slytherin. Already you've got enormous power, yet your only ambition comes from when someone you love wants you to do or be something, then you'd move Heaven and Earth to do it."

"He would've killed Ukyo if I hadn't killed him first." the redhead told the Hat, ignoring the rest of the hall that was listening intently to this speech. "And my mom does want me to be the best martial artist and... person, that I can be."

"There, you see?" It smirked. "If you were a Slytherin you'd want power for its own sake. No. You want it because someone you love wants you to have it. That's Hufflepuff straight through to the heart of it. Countless times you've fought someone else's battle, taken it as your own, for no other reason than loyalty. Bravery has taken you through abuse, torture and trials to learn things no other Ravenclaw could have survived. Loyalty held you in one piece, kept you from descending to evil, focused on a task bravery got you into, and your knowledge acquired from your insatiable desire to learn has often saved you at the end. You're a near perfect blend of those traits. The Founders would've loved you. In fact I think I made a mistake in not making you a Hufflepuff as well as those others. I'll rectify that right now. Triple House Student! Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor!!"

It spoke out to the silence of the hall, even the Hufflepuffs were a long second coming back to themselves and clapping.

Ranko bowed to her three Houses, then went to leave the hall when the Hat's voice stopped her, "Oh, and Ranko? Do you recall the Saotome Secret Technique? You have not yet lost your most important battle. You are still fighting."

The redhead gave the Hat a thoughtful smirk, thinking of Happosai and one of her mother's arguments: That she was actually defeating him right now. Just by staying away from him he was slowly dying, and thus she was winning and the old pervert wasn't. But thinking about that in terms of the Saotome Secret Technique, at last she could accept that maybe this was a valid tactic...

And that Ranko Malfoy never loses any more than Ranma Saotome did.

That gave her much of herself back to hear that, then she went to go join her new House to get to know them. And they also got to know her; not only would she be in for a whole House introduction that night, but the older two years would single her out as almost as abused as Harry. Hers was not an ongoing problem, as the prime crux of the matter had already been dealt with, to whit: she'd been separated from Genma, and general healing begun and she now had a parent and friends who loved and genuinely cared for her.

So she was coping with it better, and did not require the same levels of intervention. But an unavoidable point was that poor Ranko had missed out on most of what other children took for granted growing up, and had some significant social weaknesses, cultural blind spots (an appalling amount of those, considering she'd grown up Japanese and had caught very little of that social strata, and knew virtually nothing of the English ways - beyond the paper thin veneer she'd picked up to go through with this role) and so on.

So House Hufflepuff launched into damage control on the little lost maiden. Her revolted expression when someone suggested assigning a boyfriend clearly hinted at sexual abuse, so she got the Kodachi treatment of a trio of middle years to act as confidants and guides, to bring her up to speed as if they were older sisters as well as friends.

I O I O I

Kodachi had been ceaselessly studying her stolen cache of potions manuals and papers in every moment she could spare for days on end now, and had seen Snape's signature at the bottom of several of those loose sheets; so she knew who this Half-Blood Price was, and that he was clearly a genius in his field - too bad that it wasn't teaching.

"Oh! What have you got there, Dachi?" Umi came in to her room in her nightgown, brushing out her long blue hair.

"Yeah! It's had your interest for days." Hikaru jumped on her bed, similarly attired for rest. The trio had made it a habit every night of checking in on Kodachi to kind of catch up on each other's days and do some gossip and girl talk.

Kodachi sucked in her lip, but it was looking up to see Fuu's warmly accepting smile that decided her. "I was wondering if we ought to start a Potion Club. The old one is Slytherin-only, but Hufflepuff could use some extra study."

"That is a subject you're good at." Umi touched her lip, composed in thought, before she beamed to the younger girl. "I think it's a great idea."

"Yeah!" Hikaru jumped up and down on her bed. "Think of all of those extra treats that we could bake!" That bouncy redhead had loved the candy making lessons in the new potions class more than most had.

I O I O I

The original seven were gathered back into Nodoka's basement of the tower she'd chosen as her own: Nodoka herself, Cologne, Ranko, Shampoo, Ukyo, and the Patil twins. The redhaired mother of Ranko was speaking.

"I had hoped to use Voldemort's memories somehow, but they're curdled, protected by amazing Occlumency and in so many other ways that so far I can find no use for them. I fear that I may never, and have begun to plan on how to dispose of them." She brightened and moved on, considerably happier. "But I have succeeded in separating out the contents of the cauldron left over from Brain Burning Nagini. The black bowl holds his personality, white his curdled memories, and the rose one his skills. These last I've purified several times in countless different ways, including filtering them through a unicorn horn. I've found obliviating them doesn't destroy anything, as it targets memory, not skills. Personality affecting charms and spells have nothing to ground on, and so on. I've bathed those skills in the breath of a unicorn, and waved it around in a kneazle filled room without upsetting any of them, seen if a number of danger-sensing animals were afraid of them, then repeating that whole process with them quasi-attached to me in non-permanent ways. As far as I can tell, the separation is pure and complete, this is only skills distilled from our enemy, with no other mental aspect to contaminate them."

"So what are we getting?" Ranko confidently raised a question, fresh from an early evening with House Hufflepuff and their starting attempts to rebuild her into a whole human being.

Nodoka lifted the rose bowl in her hands, stepping out into another carefully prepared echo circle, with wards and protections just as extreme as before. "Voldemort is unfortunately an unsurpassed master of Dark Arts. But at the very least we'll know what we are fighting and might even have a chance to learn, or create, counters for that unfortunate art. Old Moldy is an expert on Charms and Defense as well as Magical Creatures, strong but not so great an expert on Transfiguration, Potions and Ancient Runes, and his weaknesses are Astronomy, Herbology and History where he is merely average in ability. So far as I know Moldy has no skills at Divination or Arithmancy, and no Muggle Studies, though he lived as one when he was a child. He Apparates well, and has been called the best Legilimens of this century, with Occlumency equally powerful. Merely being an expert in one field is usually sufficiently remarkable to ensure a good career, this is arguably a half dozen. Unfortunately, this will not copy those directly into us in a form where we can use them."

"What do you mean?" This time the question fell to Parvati.

The duchess set her bowl down on a careful arrangement of runes, and huffed in stress as she double checked everything twice. "The soul fragment in Nagini was implanted before Voldemort was nineteen years old, after graduation from Hogwarts but before most of what he disappeared to study. So we won't get everything, or even most things, he knows now. Also I had to divorce these skills from his memories and the other aspects of his mind or this would be closer to a possession. What that means is all of those mental triggers on which a talent relies for activation won't be there in us. We don't dare add his memories to ourselves - also personality has a strong effect on how skills are used, and adopting that is unthinkable. Basically, the way I've set things up we are going to have to train in everything Moldy knew at eighteen, to gain those skills over again. The advantage we are getting is that all we really have to do is recall them, give ourselves activation triggers for our new abilities reliant on our own personalities and memories, unpolluted by his, and that will take only a fraction of the time normally required to gain them up from nothing."

"And, of course, you've sped that up." Ukyo smirked, crossing her arms.

"Of course I've sped that up." The lady gave an answering grin. "What I have done is take a potion and charm combination that magical hospitals use to restore massively Obliviated patients using relevant memories donated by friends and relatives, then adapted those for absorbing this stuff. The setup is very gentle and gradual, and all that we are really doing is helping ourselves to remember skills we never had. There will be no memory of his training in them, or how he used them. But as we study those same arts over again, anything that Voldemort knows, or knew at eighteen, we can pick up really fairly easily because on some level we'll already know it."

"An entire Hogwarts education in a couple years at most, and the man whose skills we are to be acquiring scored perfect marks in all of the examinations he chose to take." Cologne whistled, favorably impressed. "I wouldn't mind knowing more of this Western version of magical education, and not just to understand what I'm fighting against, what curses are more important to dodge than others and so on."

"Yes. But best of all we'll know something of his style, and gain a really good idea of what he knows and doesn't. At least at first, Ranko and the girls will have a magical dueling style very comparable to Moldyshorts. Since we know that beforehand, we can intentionally add emphasis to our natural drifting away from that, based on having very different personalities than him, while also training to defeat him." Nodoka stood up and addressed her daughter's allies and friends. "But this is the last thing we'll be taking from Old Moldy, and we'll each be sleeping with kneazles and unicorns until I can be sure that this worked out to our benefit and not otherwise. Any sign of personality corruption and this terminates, as before. I've drunk an almost dangerous dosage of Liquid Luck, as before. And I will be the filter for the rest of you, as before. Unlike before, we are each going to drink a vial of phoenix tears after this is over, so that hopefully any harm done gets undone, and for at least a month afterward we are all of us going up to Albus Dumbledore's office daily, as he has the nearest phoenix, and we're going to listen to it sing while we have tea with him. I've told him you are all very naughty girls and need to do this as punishment. But since phoenix song grants courage to those of good heart and weakens those of evil, it should be as good a countermeasure as anyone is going to get if there are still any lingering traces of evil in these skills, and let us assimilate them as ourselves without pollution."

The duchess drew a deep breath and released it. "There remains a very slight risk in spite of all I can do, just on the odd chance that I forgot something. But ultimately we're doing this in spite of the risk because sixty years of study and experience is a difficult thing to counter in less than sixty years, and by the time you've all gotten that much Moldy could well have doubled his to a hundred and twenty. I've done all that I can to reduce the risk and make it safe, but we need a boost if we are to fight him, and the more I look around the more I see that no one else can. I still don't want to fight him. Yet if I run I want to do so from a position of strength, an orderly retreat without casualties. To do that successfully means we must be able to fight successfully, even if we don't want to, and if we are forced to fight I want to win as quickly as possible."

"Shampoo agree."

"Yah, so do we all, Sugar."

Parvati smiled at Padma and both stepped out onto the magic circle, fully confident of the lady's protections and precautions. The rest of the five girls followed, with Cologne being the last one to step into place around Nodoka, a flash of concern nearly hidden from her eyes. The duchess gave her a questioning glance, but Cologne shook her head, waving off her concern. So they proceeded, and with a flick of her wand, two passes and a slash, the rosy liquid contents of the bowl flew up and into that noble woman, triggering a flash from her echo circle and blazing lines of chalk as each of the seven lifted up and swirled about, turning a soft rosy glow that turned deep red and vanished, allowing each of them to settle back down to the ground, suddenly exhausted.

Immediately after this effect was over, Cologne shoved herself to her feet and with a slash of her wand the ashes and remnants of the ritual was scoured clean. Another flick and a door came open and a small herd of unicorns came into the room, sniffing and shuffling about with an equal pack of fully adult kneazels. A last twirl and flick and empty packages and wrapping paper for unicorn treats and cat toys became evident on most surfaces, with enough open but uneaten ones for the unicorns to begin to nuzzle and eat while the kneazels pounced on the toys. With that last effort she collapsed and began to snore.

The basement door came open a half second afterward, and Dumbledore stuck his long nose inside, caught an eyeful of treats, wrappers and toys and the animals enjoying them, and smiled at the exhausted bunch. "Ah, Nodoka, I just wanted to inform you that evening is fading fast into night and it is time for these youngsters to be in their beds. Good night, all."

The Headmaster disappeared, closing the door behind him.

After a minute's worth of shock, and waiting for it to be safe, Nodoka mumbled, "I warded that door with my most potent spells."

"I sensed his presence nearby, and knew we had to hurry or get caught in the middle, with who knows what consequences." Cologne responded from where she pretended sleep. "Luckily none of what we did tonight was so dark it could be detected... actually, I'm not truly sure it could be called dark at all. But I'm sure he felt the surge of magic. I just hope it was so muddled by the animals and my spells that he couldn't determine what it was."

"The children should go to bed, for that matter so should we." The Lady Malfoy gasped from her seat on the floor. "Don't forget to take your potions on the way out, they are in that drawer. Drink them before you leave."

Everyone said their goodnights and left, before Nodoka muttered, "I can't believe he was fully fooled, misdirected at most, and that means we should not do more of this until we have better security."

I O I O I

Thursday morning promised a beautiful day, bright and clear with lovely little puffy white clouds scattered just right to make a picture.

Nodoka's study group, which by now also included Cologne, returned from the Forbidden Forest and began to change back into people while most of the rest of that school was just starting breakfast.

The centaurs had expanded what they were teaching those girls. Now it included Magical Healing, Archery and Advanced Astronomy in addition to Divination, all areas at which the centaurs excelled even over humans. And with the Astronomy portion they had to start in the pre-dawn hours anyway, so most of this they fit in very early.

Nodoka had them all change in a small circular shack just inside of the forest border. What the girls did not know was that she had a magic circle built into that structure boosting the effects of a Time Turner she carried so the girls all got many extra hours during the day and didn't notice the extra workload particularly. However, by including brunch and a substantial meal with their afternoon tea, along with a mandatory midday nap (excused by their getting up so early to study stars with the centaurs) all of their biologies had enough support to handle to longer days without stress or trouble.

Between two classes a day spent in the Forest, and one under the surface of the lake with the merfolk teaching them about all manner of underwater equivalents to Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, and the salves and ointments they brewed out of them for the aquatic version of Potions, they were really getting quite a full course load as it was, above and beyond the usual Hogwarts classes. But with the Lady Malfoy's tutoring, the regular Hogwarts subjects were truly very easy, and came at a very slow pace, so they were all already ahead in their work in them.

Ranko, Shampoo, Ukyo and the two Patils were already surging ahead at an even more impressive rate. Often they only had to read a book to know its contents as if they'd been studying it for years, though it did confuse some of the rest of those girls why the duchess Malfoy had gone to so much trouble to hunt down the 1940's versions of their textbooks for them. It was all the same material, right?

Still, out of curiosity, many of the others also started to read those versions, and found many differences over their modern texts. Some were even better, so they stuck with them.

It would seem a bit extreme, but on top of their instruction by centaurs and merfolk, normal class load and homework, they had also decided to take all of the regular Hogwarts electives, and after a swift breakfast, that was where the group headed now.

Care of Magical Creatures class was fun. All summer long they had been helping Hagrid to look after the animals while Professor Kettleburn was on vacation, and now that nice old guy was back the fugitives from Nerima, plus their new study friends, were brushing down a set of nine unicorns before the first lesson of the year. Of course, the brushes they used were enchanted to collect and store all of the loose hairs, some of which they would actually be allowed to keep for themselves.

Only a few, because they were so valuable.

They dealt with unicorns so rarely that this was a real treat. Most of the time was spent with streelers and other magical creatures the Professor put on display that can be kept as pets.

Kasumi came trotting out from around by the lake as they were doing this, and the students got astonished as their brilliant white charges suddenly broke away and streamed toward the chestnut mare. Ranko leapt after them, not as fast as a unicorn could run but ready and willing to defend Kasumi if that became necessary. However, the herd simply crowded around the cursed girl and brushed against her on all sides, hemming her in and spooking her slightly. Then they all touched her with their horns, causing a globe of silver glow to spring up all around them.

At the first sign of injury to Kasumi Ranko was ready to start serving roast unicorn that night, protected creatures or no, but the brilliant white animals left Kasumi alone after that, and allowed themselves to be collected and herded back to their places in time for the Care of Magical Creatures lesson to start.

Professor Kettleburn was a fine teacher, one of the best Hogwarts had, and because of Nodoka the wizard now had a full set of limbs, and substantial chunks of flesh removed by previous accidents had been perfectly restored, including a disfiguring lump missing from one side of his face. The man was so grateful he'd decided to befriend the whole family and treated the girls like he was their rich uncle or something, giving them gifts and taking them out places to see things when they didn't have class time.

They were probably the only first years in six decades to get Hogsmead weekends, and escorted by a veteran merry maker at that. Diagon Alley trips were unheard of for Hogwarts students, but Kettleburn seemed delighted to take the troupe all over magical Britain.

It was a good experience for all of them.

An hour after the lesson, Kasumi's chestnut coat fell out and by noon was replaced with a sheen of solid gold fur, with a little nub of silvery horn on her forehead that Ranko noticed as she came out to do afternoon feeding.

Calling the parents, they came and examined her changes. Nodoka was speechless, while Cologne chuckled ruefully, shaking her head. "Oh, girl. Whatever this is, it is going to complicate curing your curse. We were so close, too."

Nodoka sighed, brushing the cursed girl turned horse, now something else. "Well, this does complicate our plans. Still, there's nothing to do but live with it, I suppose. Kasumi, do you think you could be a dear and let us work a few spells on you?"

The newly turned unicorn nodded her golden head twice.

Ranko's mother resumed petting her. "Thank you for being such a dear. According to what I've read you'll only have this beautiful golden coat for a year, then it will fall out and you'll have a fine silver one for a similar period. Only then will that fall out and you'll get your final coat of brilliant white. Now none of us expect you to be cursed that long, dear. But you are in a position to do the rest of us a great favor during your unfortunate wait. You see, unicorn hair has powerful magical properties, but even vast wealth won't acquire much of it. There just isn't all that much for sale. But if you're willing, I'd like to cast a few cosmetic charms on you: First to lengthen your coat out a good long bit, then to shave you back down to normal, and repeat that a number of times. It will be dull, but we'll sing to you as we go along. Will that be alright with you, darling?"

The former horse, former human girl nodded her head once again. So the group started an hour long sing along where they took turns casting the hair care charms Nodoka'd described a couple of dozen times each. Kasumi's coat was soft and silky, a beautiful golden color with a fine luster. No ordinary unicorn would have sit still for the procedure, or permitted the spell effects to get past its innate resistance, but Kasumi was content to let them, and by the time they got done petting and grooming and caring for her, not to mention singing in tolerable voices, the unicorn mare was content to go out for a run and the group snuck away with literal bales of golden hair stacked high and carried with levitation charms. In spite of all of its bulk it was still quite light, so even the Patil twins were managing their loads rather handily.

"Dears, let's move all of this to my tower. There I'll weave it all into thread with an enchanted spinning wheel I'll go buy first thing this evening, after official classes are over. We can all have unicorn threads in our clothes and dresses, which should give us powerful protection."

"Sure, but mom?" Ranko pleaded. "What of all those fairies? Aren't we going to use the cocoons of theirs we've been saving?"

"What's all this about?" Parvati asked.

Ukyo answered with a grin. "Fairies are really small, look like multicolor glowing people, but they've got wings and are only about as smart as butterflies. They also lay eggs, and the larva spin cocoons. The silk from fairy cocoons is very easily enchanted, and it has its own natural magic so it stays enchanted like, forever. But the individual threads are so thin that it takes something like a thousand cocoons to make a handkerchief. We don't have to kill the fairies, like muggles do silkworms, because we've got repair spells to fix the thread once they've chewed their way out of the cocoons. But that's still a huge breeding project."

"We have many, many sheds out in forest, breeding fairies. Gather million or so cocoons already." Shampoo felt compelled to add.

"Six million, two hundred thousand, and eight," Cologne corrected. "And the next batch is just about ripe, which should be our largest harvest yet. Luckily, those fairies don't live for very long or we'd all be awash in them. The forest has a disturbingly high number as it is, but thankfully no one's noticed so far."

"That thing might have something to do with it." Ukyo said, face white.

They had been cutting through the forest to go down by the lake, as Nodoka preferred to enter by the boat docks, where there was a secret door that could take them to her tower with very little chance of encountering Dumbledore in the halls. None of them wanted to take the risk of his deciding to exercise his authority and decree that since all of this hair was made on school grounds that it was school property, or some other petty revenge such as that. It had no legal footing in the wizarding world, as they'd used no school supplies, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it (or try to anyway).

All of that got chased from their minds in an instant, as the game trail they'd been following was encircled about by tall, strong webs, and multitudes of man-sized acromantulas sprang out of concealment and wove shut the entrance they'd walked in and the exit on the other side. The trap was all carefully hidden so that you didn't know about it until you'd entered it. Worst of all, a huge spider with a legspan fifteen feet across was lowering down above them, its many pincers clicking together excitedly as Ukyo pointed to it.

"Oh, goody!" Nodoka cried out in delight. "The Forbidden Forest does have acromantulas! I'd been concerned we'd have to go to Borneo to acquire a supply, and getting them past customs could have been a bear! Don't kill any of them, darlings, but break as many of their legs as you like. We want to capture them all more or less intact, but they can lose all of their legs and not be the worse for our purposes."

"Leave the big one to me, children." Cologne advised. "I want to take this one back to our classrooms so Nodoka can use it as a lecture model. After all, if we'd been ordinary witches this would've been trouble."

"Sticky web, huh?" Ukyo smirked, reaching into her bosom and drawing out two packages. "Flour Bombs!" She threw her weapons and the gumminess of the webbing instantly got covered in clouds of white powder, settling upon strands which lost their sticking power.

The younger martial artists leapt into the fray, while Nodoka stayed to protect the Patils. It was a reaction sufficiently different from the usual responses that the spiders hesitated, and suffered for that when the attacks hit.

Once or twice during the fight they tried to break some strands, but found it too difficult even for the muscle power of Neriman martial artists. However, that didn't stop them from being on their way in a few minutes with dozens of spiders, bound, broken legged and bobbing along under levitation charms behind them. The largest was cocooned in its own web fibers that Nodoka had cut free with her omnipresent enchanted sword, and Cologne had charmed the strands together to form an inescapable binding, both net and mummification at once.

"Why do we want them, anyway?" Ranko addressed her mom over her shoulder, proving that even she was not in on all of her mother's secrets.

"Ordinary spider silk is bulletproof, if you gather enough to weave it properly. Or rather I should say that it is, strand for strand, far tougher than those fibers they do make bulletproof clothes out of. Gathering cobwebs is monstrous difficult, if you don't want to tangle them up. Acromantula silk is tougher yet, and better still plentiful. Since we took these alive I've got spells that will allow us to milk them for silk and venom until they die of starvation in a few weeks."

"Die?" Padma asked, in distaste. "Starve?" Parvati echoed in that same tone.

"These spiders are monsters, child, and humans are their favorite prey." Cologne told them in a very grave voice. "They've just tried to eat us, if you'll recall. Despite its intelligence and ability to speak, the breed of acromantulas is almost mindlessly violent and they are literally bloodthirsty. No sane person wants them living anywhere near human habitations. They've devoured whole villages of people, when they can. Men, women, and especially children. They find the flesh of young people like yourselves especially enticing."

"Why do we want them, again?" Parvati blanched.

"For silk and venom," Nodoka repeated. "The latter actually has some excellent and highly useful peaceful properties as a solvent, among other things. But our primary interest is for silk, because from this point on all of our clothes can be made of a blend of acromantula silk, unicorn hair (which is every bit as fine as silk), and thread spun from fairy cocoons. The first should help us resist most physical damage that isn't blunt trauma or enchanted, the second should stop most curses, and the last layer is going to be easily enchanted for our own benefit. The combination of layered silks should give us a most powerful protective composite in our ordinary day wear."

"And sleep wear, and beach wear, and swim wear, underwear and evening wear. You name it." Ukyo chimed in gladly, then answered their looks with a, "Hey! I've been around Ranchan's mom long enough to know that much about her. If there's a way to conceal a chunk of battleship armor in her panties she's done it!"

All eyes turned to Ranko's mom, who blushed rosy. "Uhm, well, not battleship armor per se. You see steel just isn't strong enough to stop most attack spells. Dragons, however, are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate."

"You're wearing leather underwear?" Ranko groaned. Some things you just never wanted to know about your mother!

"Not just her, child, and get your mind out of the gutter! It's more like a one-piece swimsuit or a gymnast costume we wear between our outermost and innermost layers. Think of it as a sort of concealed, spell resistant armor, if you like. But this type of thing has stopped more than one shot in the back during my lifetime. You don't grow as old as I do just over good genes kiddo."

"I thought dragonhide couldn't stop any strong spells?" Parvati asked the Chinese woman who had spoken.

"That's all in how the leather is tanned, dear." Nodoka informed her. "Cologne comes from a tribe that deals with magic a little differently than they do in the rest of the world, and she uses a process that diminishes the innate magic only a tiny bit, while our dragon farms here in the West use easier, more expedient methods to produce their vastly inferior product. She has made the gloves and aprons you've all been wearing, and the hats. And if it ever comes down to it you'll find they protect far more effectively than ordinary dragon leather you see in stores."

"We'll have you each a set of leather teddies in a few weeks, when I have some time on a weekend to go out to one of those farms and collect the raw hides I'll need." Cologne gave them all a wink.

"That isn't very reassuring." Padma groused, picturing hot underwear that wouldn't breathe getting soaked with sweat and chafing uncomfortably in tender places.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Now honestly, if it were you stuck in a Harry Potter universe, wouldn't you want someone like Nodoka looking after your interests?

I mean, you have a choice between manipulative old Headmasters who'll train you up to die gloriously for The Cause, much like terrorists train children to be suicide bombers, or Old Snake Face, who casts Crucio spells on his loyal followers for fun and stress relief, or the incompetent Ministry who'd alternately vilify you or demand you save them.

Ranma's mother has seen those sides for herself, and decided that none of them suited her, so she is rapidly building up her own faction; which, if you pause to think about it, compared to the resources of the others is still very much in its infant stages.

Or, I should put it this way, if any other side was to move against her, Nodoka would count the costs and decide to pack up everyone and go elsewhere. 


	13. Chapter 13

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Thirteen

by Lionheart

I O I O I

"Ah, Harry, can I speak with you a moment?" the kindly Headmaster asked, eyes a twinkling and a gentle smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster. I've got to run or I'll be late." The young boy disappeared at a trot not really thinking about the exchange other than it was inconvenient for his high priority trip out to Hagrid's cabin, where he'd been invited to tea daily so he could have a chance in relative privacy to access those memories showing his parents.

You couldn't exactly keep something like a pensieve in your dorm room.

Watching the boy link up with Aphrodite outside on the grounds and rush off to be greeted by Professor Malfoy at the door and ushered inside Hagrid's cottage where smiling girls would surround him, Albus Dumbledore stood with the light gone from out of his eyes and a wooden grin still frozen in place like a forgotten toy as he contemplated proof of over a decade of plotting having been dashed hopelessly to pieces before his very eyes.

He had not planned for things to be this way.

In fact, what he had planned some might view as reprehensible, but it was all for the greater good - or so he told himself. Dumbledore had spies on Harry, he knew how the boy had been treated and could have intervened at any time. The Dursleys had been a cruel family even before he'd dropped Harry on them, spitefully gossiping about neighbors and yelling at subordinates for meager satisfaction in their own superiority. Their ghastly child was the only human being either Vernon or Petunia treated with anything approaching kindness, and so they'd lavished all they had on him, spoiling him horribly until he turned into a beast very much like his parents were.

Arabella Figg would, in the mainline, even admit to Harry that she had to treat him in a way so he hated his visits to her, or else the Dursleys would never have let him come over.

So she knew about his treatment. You couldn't arrange not to know when you had openly admitted to planning how to maintain contact in spite of it, and as she was only there as a spy, Dumbledore had to know. Yet he did nothing about it when he had a chance to change things and give the boy a decent childhood.

A thousand things could have been done to protect Harry from them and improve his living situation, from charms and compulsion, through outright bribery, on to threats over the jail time they had done everything they could to earn in their treatment of him. It was not even out of the question to give a magical infusion of blood to another family, so Harry could've been raised by whomever they chose to select for that duty.

As Voldemort would acquire Lily's blood from Harry in the mainline. It followed then that if his greatest enemy could do so in a terrible, dark ritual when the protection was supposed to be based on love, then a more humane family could've gotten it through less extreme means, and then been fit to raise Harry under whatever protection the blood provided.

No, Dumbledore had known, and deliberately avoided any intervention for one purpose and one purpose alone, and that was this: A child who has grown up without love will seize upon the first display of affection and never truly let go. Harry would have been the perfect tool, willing to do anything the ancient Headmaster asked for a bit of that love he'd never felt from family or parents, or friends really, as they'd known the Dursleys had isolated the boy as much as was in their considerable power as his guardians. And with Dudley's knowing assistance bullying any child who might try to befriend the little orphan lad, they'd kept the boy quite alone. Dumbledore had even offered his assistance, keeping magic folk away.

While he had not exactly instructed the Dursleys to beat the boy, Albus had allowed it gladly, knowing that when the boy came to Hogwarts he could own the childhood hero as surely and completely as if under the Imperius, just by showing him a little tender affection.

Now a dream of the Headmaster's was dashed to countless pieces, as the child raced out joyfully across the lawn to meet Professor Malfoy, all a-smiles as she gave him a hug and let him into Hagrid's cottage.

He had to shake his head at the success of her scheme. By keeping the Headmaster busy protecting his Potions Master those initial few days, Nodoka had gotten to the Boy Who Lived ahead of him, and now she would take the place of mother in his heart just the same as the Headmaster had plotted to be grandfather. It was galling how many years of plotting that unraveled, and what it cost Albus in other potential schemes. As Minister Fudge well knew, as EVERYONE in magical society knew, except perhaps poor Harry himself, he was the symbol of freedom and victory in magical Britain, a priceless icon with incalculable effect upon the mind and heart of their culture.

Now Albus Dumbledore would not be the one who wielded that tool.

He had thought to counter the many attacks upon his person by a quick appeal to Harry's good nature, allying with the boy to use his reputation and influence to bolster his own in the eyes of the magical public. Even under such deadly attacks as Albus was, that would have countered most of them, and the remainder he could have laid to rest with a few well chosen words, an understanding tone, or a gentle admonishment or touch of advice here or there.

Now, instead, that powerful influence was bonding with the one person who more than any other had dealt those attacks. And it could be used to reinforce them. That most excellent weapon he had labored so hard to create was not to be his, and could be used against him.

Albus Dumbledore stood gazing woodenly at that cottage with a dead smile upon his face for a very long while.

I O I O I

"Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter!"

"Yes, he is." Nodoka confirmed, standing next to the boy after a brief shopping trip to get him a set of expensive and flattering dress robes. "Now could you please confirm our appointment?"

"Yes, Your Grace, I have your appointment here." The clerk looked down at his book. "Two o'clock in the Department of Mysteries. If you'll just take that elevator, someone will meet you at the bottom."

Giving the man a nod, the duchess swept past him, holding Harry by the hand as she led him to the nearest elevator, which they occupied alone. The magic folk in the lobby had been too busy staring at the duo to join them in the lift. She had taken care to get him a set of robes that matched in theme and styling her clothes enough for them to look related.

"Is it really true?" Harry asked his escort innocently. "That I have a prophecy about me and everything?"

"So my brother boasted. As he was defending Snape to me in our latest disagreement he said that man was key in revealing to Voldemort a prophecy made about you just before you were born. Naturally I made inquiries, and there is a copy stored here just awaiting you to claim it."

The boy stirred in excitement. "What do you think it says?"

Looking down at him, the duchess met his eyes with an expression of motherly concern that warmed the cockles of the eleven-year-old's heart even as he got the warning interpreted correctly and quieted down. "Harry, I don't know. But it may be something awful, because immediately upon hearing it Voldemort put aside other priorities, and as soon as he could launched an attack upon your parents."

Somber now, the duo stepped off of the lift as it reached the bottom. There a man in a garish purple and brown robe led them to the Department of Mysteries. It seemed they were in and out in moments, after Harry took the prophecy down and they listened to it in a private chamber that Nodoka double checked was secure.

"So, I've got to kill him, or he'll kill me." Harry summarized, having remained silent until they had reached Hogsmead and were heading back to the castle. "But that's alright, isn't it? I mean, he's already dead. That's what everyone was saying about where I got this scar from. So it's okay and I'm safe, right?" He turned eyes filled with desperate cheerfulness and willingness to believe upon the woman. "Right?"

Her eyes as she met his were pained. She knelt to grasp him by the shoulders and meet his gaze on an equal level. "Harry, I am so sorry. All of your life you've been lied to, and all that I can offer to make that better is a promise not to ever deny you truth when you need it. You have my word that I'll never lie to you, and the only secrets I shall keep are to protect my family from danger or those I honestly don't feel you are ready to know when you ask me. But I shall tell you when I cannot tell you something, not give you a pleasant falsehood. And the answer, Harry, to your question is that I believe you are still in very real danger."

Somber now, the Boy Who Lived still found a smile and enough courage to joke about his situation. "So, I could ask you about the birds and the bees then?"

"And you'll find that I've a very dirty mind and am willing to embarrass you terribly with more than you'd ever wanted to know," she agreed reasonably. "But it boils down to something I can illustrate with a simple comparison. You've had your first Potions class by now. Babies are made from two ingredients, one that boys create inside their bodies, and one that girls create in theirs. The girl has a soft cauldron tucked inside her tummy, the boy has a rod that hangs outside of a corresponding place. You stir the cauldron with the rod, the ingredients mix and a baby is made. Sometimes a couple will have to try that process several times, sometimes it works on the first attempt. Now if you ask me any more on that subject right now I'm afraid that I shall have to employ pictures and scar you for life."

Harry blushed quite red, his bluff called. "No, that's quite alright."

Acting on inspiration, Nodoka turned them about and began leading Harry back to the magical village they'd only just departed. "Come, you need someone to talk to about this Voldemort matter. Let's pick up a few pints of ice cream and bags of sweets and you and I can discuss it on the lawn."

So they did, and once they were settled with their treats out far away from any inquisitive ears with multiple wards and protection spells up, Nodoka once again turned to that subject. "Harry, what I am going to tell you will not be pleasant to hear, but I need you to be brave. Okay?" Upon receiving his now, she continued. "Voldemort is not dead. I have been able to pry bits and pieces of information free of those who have been tracking this, and he is alive, just reduced to a wraith without a body. So he is very nearly helpless right now, but he won't always remain so. There are several ways for him to return to a physical form once again, and if he does he will go back to doing all the horrible things he'd done before. And while he remains a wraith, I don't know of a good way to hurt him, except by doing hurt to those tools he's going to want when he returns."

"Oh," Harry's face was flickering back and forth between emotions before it settled upon determination. "So I've got to be ready to beat him when he returns, right? I mean, it's him or me, right?"

The woman smiled brilliantly. "Yes, Harry. According to the prophecy either you must die or he must, and one of you is going to do the other in. But nothing was ever said about you doing it all alone. Voldemort has his followers, and you should also be surrounded by your own friends and allies. That should make it a great deal easier. But I am concerned about this 'mark him as his equal' part. Do you mind if I cast a few charms on you to see if my theory is correct?"

Upon receiving his permission, the redhaired woman made some very complicated wand passes over, around, and to the sides of the boy, whispering spells quietly in an almost continuous stream. The more she did so, the more angry she became. Then she stopped and turned a sweet smile upon the boy. "Harry, just so you know, I have no anger towards you. But someone has done something terrible to you. What would you think of a person that deliberately broke a baby's spine?"

"I'd think they were evil. Why? Is that what Voldemort did to me?" Harry asked in some concern.

"No, dear. Let's see, how do I best explain this?" Nodoka touched her wand to her lip and blinked for a moment, deep in thought. "Aha! I know. It's very simple actually. You know the pensieve that I gave you for your birthday, a trifle late I am sorry to say? Well, all sorts of things can be stored magically, not just memories. You've seen those paintings that act like real people? Those are personality fragments copied into paints. But that's getting rather far afield. What I meant to be saying is that when Voldemort tried to kill you, he made you his equal."

"That's where I get my scar from, right?" Harry touched his forehead.

"Yes, dear, but you should have gotten a great deal more than a scar. Voldemort made you his EQUAL. A tiny, one year old baby, who was supposed to be equivalent in power to a Dark Lord with fifty years of training and experience. That wasn't just a cut, Harry, but a... well, like a vaccination scar. It was the only outward remaining sign of something very deep, far within you. When Voldemort tried to kill you he accidentally gave you a copy of all of his powers, skills, and experiences. You ought to have been a fully trained wizard by your second birthday as you assimilated those. By now you truly ought to have been a mighty wizard fully the equal of Voldemort at his height."

"But, why aren't I? I mean, I only just discovered magic." Harry was puzzled.

Now Nodoka looked sad. "Yes Harry, you ought to be, but aren't. Someone placed blocks upon you. No one else but Dumbledore could have or would have done so. I'm certain it was one of his moments of well meaning stupidity, thinking to give you a normal childhood or a nonmagical upbringing so your power or your fame wouldn't get to your head. But also he might have feared that you would have become like Voldemort, powerful and cruel. But if he feared that, he should never have left you with those appalling relatives who gave you so many reasons to be angry or afraid - seeds of going dark in any of us."

Placing her hands on his shoulders, looking down her straight arms, she met him in the eyes and said, "Harry, only one person in all of the world had both the power and the opportunity to place those blocks upon you, and that is Dumbledore. He might've felt he had reasons for doing this to you, but nothing gave him the right. He denied you the ability to defend yourself from those horrible bullies growing up, and his work is still stunting you now." She drew a deep breath. "Harry, among magic people placing blocks and power limiters, upon children especially, is among the worst crimes that we have. It is a horrible, evil deed that compares to breaking someone's spine and leaving them a cripple. Nothing excuses or forgives doing it deliberately to someone, and in this case it cannot be accidental."

"Oh." The boy wasn't sure how to respond to that, especially at the anger he felt Nodoka had, directed toward Dumbledore for doing this to him. Having someone upset on his behalf was still a new experience for him, and he began to think that this was what it felt like to have a mother at last. Someone to protect and care about him.

"Did it really do anything to help?" The young boy asked, always willing to consider good motives for those around him, if they felt at all deserving.

"No, Harry. I don't think so. I've become an expert on Voldemort's personality, and you have no trace of that within you. Nor would you, even if those blocks had never been there. I can see past them, they're cracked already, and for me this is like looking into an aquarium. The glass holds water back like those blocks hold your granted magic - and a bit of your own native supply if I'm not mistaken. But there is nothing of Voldemort's evil within you, and if you'd had magical, understanding parents growing up they could have taught you the right way to use all of your powers just as ordinary parents teach children how to act in a responsible manner with less fantastic powers like walking or talking. There could have been accidents... what am I saying? There would have been mistakes and incidents, and they probably would have had to scold you gently once or twice about not transfiguring your little sister or apparating into places you shouldn't be or something, but they all could have been dealt with and you wouldn't be any more evil or horrible than you are today. I have faith in you, Harry, and you have a very kind heart. Not even the worst upbringing destroyed that, I don't think this could have stood a chance."

"So, can you do anything about it?" Harry asked after a moment of basking in her caring.

"Of course, Harry. But it's up to you to decide if you want me to remove those blocks here, or if you'd rather go down to the Ministry to press charges upon the man who placed them so they can examine them before they are removed. Now I've done a bit of checking, his wand signature is all over them."

I O I O I

While Nodoka was shattering Dumbledore's well-laid plans like Akane Tendo broke bricks, Ranko was arriving in a cottage on the edge of Hogsmead on her second Time Turner day that week, wearing an octopus on her head like an unfashionable hat.

Opening the back door in the early light of dawn, an invisible redhaired girl and her hat darted quickly in, potions already in hand, uncorked and swigging even as the door closed.

This was Nabiki's day, her Thursday, the time she lived for (inasmuch as she still felt she had a reason to go on living). Her eyes watered with tears even before the change had fully began, just knowing that she'd drunk the potion and it was about to happen was enough to get her crying, and she stared, blinking only occasionally, as she watched herself turn from a delicious morsel of seafood into a real, human girl.

"Ah, Nabiki. Could you get off? You're still sitting on my head." The boy Ranma mumbled below her, face down in the carpet.

Standing up, the middle Tendo still could not take her eyes off herself for long moments, then, like Kasumi, she dashed to her bedroom and began to relive the pleasures of having hands, using tools, taking a bath (rushed, as soaking was just less of a pleasure now that she spent half of her time as calamari), then wearing CLOTHES!

It was beyond description to the girl to be able to feel proper attire on her body at last, to at long last rejoin the human race again. Also, once she got started and over her first few moments of silence she just couldn't stop talking, at first singing quietly to herself songs that her mother used to sing, then babbling for the pleasure of hearing her own voice again.

"Ranma, you said twelve hours! Did you mean it?" She glomped him in the kitchen, jumping out of nowhere to wrap all arms and legs around him, allowing a rare pause for him to answer.

"Yes." He gave her a smile as he continued stirring their meal (no seafood, he didn't think she could handle it). His routine for these days was pretty similar no matter which girl he was paired with, except that each inherently made the whole thing, even with the same routine, very different.

"That's wonderful!" Nabiki grabbed his lips in a long, deep, heartfelt kiss because she could and an octopus couldn't.

Okay, some things were the same.

Luckily, he had avoided eating any seafood himself over the past two days, in order to be sensitive to this sort of moment. The LAST thing she'd want was a reminder of her curse on his breath during what was to be a happy time.

They'd have several meals together, go out on the town together, do shopping, buy loads of packages (this was Nabiki here, spending someone else's money was both a pleasure and reminder of better days) and generally have fun confusing the town matrons about which delightful young girl that boy was married to.

Then, for the crowning event, Ranma stopped by at a specialty shop to get a bouncing, excited Nabiki a magical painting of herself that they would hang in the stables. Because it had a personality fragment of her in those paints it stood a better chance than anyone of interpreting her gestures when she was in cursed form, and could talk for her.

But also she'd have an image of herself to look on and be reminded of who she was by gazing on it and hearing her voice coming out of it. Ranma had judged correctly that having a bit of herself unaffected by the curse was something utterly priceless to the girl.

Nabiki was Delighted! And showed him so in how she hung off of him, played, laughed and bounced around him, talking all of the while to the confusion of the elderly matrons.

Surely he had to be married to one of them, but which one was it? Maybe he was twins? Or perhaps a cad? Was he two-timing them? One elderly flower seller even got up the gumption to approach the pair and delicately mention that she'd thought she'd seem him there before with another girl, only to have Nabiki agree instantly, unconcerned, and go on conversing with Ranma about whatever topic came to mind.

The flower seller even reported to her friends that she'd thought, could've sworn even, that the one girl had held him tighter, glittering with adoring love, when she'd brought up the other.

Most confusing.

But puzzled townsfolk were not the only ones observing this day out on the town between Ranma and the Tendo daughter, though the eyes that watched from beneath an invisibility cloak were far more well informed than the confused matrons.

Her ninja elf Sasuke by her side, delicately trying to master his magics to hold an umbrella stable over her head and not tip rain on her, Kodachi stood watching Ranma as he gave succor and comfort to the sister of one of her former rivals, and smiled, seeing herself in her place if ever Kodachi herself fell to life's many misfortunes and had the need for the genuine love and gentleness streaming out of his treatment of that girl.

She had found a good man to fall in love with after all.

Soon the day was done, and Nabiki was crying in the small cottage as she knew her final few minutes were almost up, when Kodachi, now visible, stepped around a corner with a smile upon her face and a cup on a tray in her hands. Smiling visibly, the noblewoman demurely offered comfort with the words, "Miss Tendo, pray accept this. The polyjuice is not our mother-in-law's special recipe, and the hair I used my own. But for another hour I beg you to receive this gift and remain human just that much longer."

Nabiki tearfully accepted and drank, tears drying as she dragged Ranma off to another few hasty adventures, not even noticing or caring as he reverted to a she as they ran to another part of the house where they could jump on beds and giggle, having pillow or tickle fights.

But a smiling Kodachi had noticed Ranma's look of adoring gratitude that she had saved him from Nabiki's tears over the unrelenting advance of the unmerciful clock. And, having already cheated it the once for an extra hour, Nabiki felt it far less pitiless and remorseless as it ticked onwards past this tiny break. She'd beaten it once, so the girl could far more easily accept her state as this second dose of potion ran out.

Happiness was what Ranma brought her, and now Kodachi had returned that to him in a useful way that he would always remember. She'd found early on he did not tend to forget favors done to him. And yet, she'd found her own pain at loss eased ever so slightly by doing a good deed for that octopus girl.

Standing at a doorway, looking out into the darkness, the noble girl from Japan thought about her situation. She looked to have well and truly escaped her deranged brother, and found one she was far more happy with. The love of a man she could never obtain in her homeland was now hers, and she knew she could count on it. Sasuke had transformed, yet was serving with greater distinction than ever, having told her of these outings her beloved took and the apparent purpose behind them.

Considering it from many angles, listening to the laughter of those two as they played like little children together, Kodachi discovered she was actually happy, and loved that thought as it felt like the final victory over the family of her upbringing.

Frankly now, ruminating on the added historical knowledge she found many comparisons between her situation and something that occurred (and directly led to) the fall of the Roman Empire. One tribe of barbarians out in the far east had grown so powerful they'd begun displacing the tribes around them, and those tribes had to go somewhere or die, so they'd carved out their own spaces, with some of those spilling out over Europe. Rome was tough, even in their decline they were a mighty foe. So those barbarian tribes had to pull out some stops to beat them, but they did beat them, sack Rome, and take over Europe.

While she did not like to think of herself as a barbarian, they had gotten displaced out of their eastern homes by what could be called a stronger tribe. Coming here to Europe they had openly attacked some of the established power structure (Voldemort's really, but some of the others had gotten caught in that blast), and were carving out a place for themselves.

But there was always that looming threat of the stronger tribe that had displaced them coming along later. They had already lost to them before, nor was she anxious for a repeat.

Kodachi did not fear Voldemort, she knew they could beat him. What she did not know was if they could defend themselves enough to survive the inevitable attack if their enemies from Nerima should, at last, find them. Worst of all possibilities was to be caught between them, being forced to fight both simultaneously. But such thoughts fled her mind an hour later as Ranko emerged from the bedroom, feathers still flying from broken pillows and dust on her face from one of her running and chasing games punching holes in the plaster, wearing an octopus on her head like an unfashionable hat and a mighty huge grin on her face.

Kodachi was about to say something, instead however she got kissed into a gelatinous but happy goo by Ranma in his cursed form, then hugged back together again by a delicious, traditional dish of eight armed protein.

"Thanks, Dachi. You made the evening a lot better for Nabiki-chan." Ranko tucked a paper wrapped magical painting under her arm while still directing a brilliant smile upon the girl.

"Anything I can do to help, I will do, my Ranma-sama."

The duo, plus their squidy accessory, talked all of the way back to Hogwarts, a hole torn in the wrapping paper letting the Nabiki portrait within peek out and interpret for her live, yet cursed, double and causing the mollusk to change to a very happy color. A ninja trained house elf unobtrusively caused a tarp to float over the couple on their way back, holding off the rain.

Because the worst of the Tendo girls' problems were that they were bored, Kodachi even made a suggestion about sharing class material with them, and so Ranko introduced her to the recording earrings she wore, whilst sharing their information between Nabiki and Kasumi. Even though Cologne had said the Tendo family was not magical, it gave them something to think on during their days.

And for that distraction allowing them to partially forget their state those two cursed girls were very grateful, as it made them feel less like animals to be learning, even if they couldn't also be doing.

I O I O I

"Knock, knock." came from the thousandth time from the neighboring cell.

"Who's there?" came a reasonable approximation of Snape's voice through that same wall.

"NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Snape's actual voice tore free of his throat as he grasped the bars of his cell and began to bang his skull upon them, raising bloody bruises on his pale forehead as he tried to knock himself out against the steel poles. Anything to block out that annoying voice that had not stopped in days, not even for sleep.

"Okay, I'm game. No who?" Sirius Black's voice came laughing back.

The jingling of keys interrupted their 'conversation' and a desperate hope lit up in Severus Snape's eyes as he watched a pair of guards approaching. He presumed from their frowns that Dumbledore at last had succeeded in rescuing him from this hell.

But, to his flabbergasted horror, they stopped a cell short and began to unlock Black's door, not his. "You there," he commanded, desperately clinging white-knuckled to his bars. "That's the wrong cell. Black is in there. I'm over here. Dumbledore won't like it if you free the wrong person, now will he?"

That actually brought a grin to the guards' faces, and one of them even chuckled. "Now ain't that just too bad? But don't you worry none, 'Snivellus'. You won't have to wait on that old guy long. At the rate things are going he'll be in here with you in a few days."

"What do you mean?" The Potion Master's face, if it was possible, got even paler.

"The Boy-Who-Lived just dropped by the Ministry of Magic to get some blocks and power limiters removed. Guess who placed 'em? Yup. Looks like Albus Dumbledore doesn't believe in Law and Order. All sorts of things are coming to light where he just did what he felt like doing. But putting blocks on the Boy Who Lived and then sticking him with those filthy muggles down in C Block, who'd abused him... well, that was just about the final straw. Harry Potter won't press formal charges - yet, he just wanted the evidence collected before he had those blocks removed. But we know what happened, and who did it. Now it just might have happened that a few folks outside of magical law enforcement could have overheard us talking about it amongst ourselves. And old Jess thinks those folks may have been reporters. Sneaky devils, reporters; manage to find out all sorts of things they should not ordinarily know. Can't imagine how they'd done it."

"Yes," continued the other guard. "Now naturally when esteemed members of the press go and ask the Head of Magical Law Enforcement direct questions proving they already know things about sensitive issues she has to do something to make sure they don't go on with wild rumors and alarm the Great British Public. So she has to confirm or deny. And what did she say Al?"

"Well, I believe it was something to the order of 'Yes, we have conclusive evidence that Mister Albus Dumbledore placed extensive power blocks and limiters on Harry Potter, also known among us as The Boy Who Lived. Our forensics show that Mr Dumbledore was committing this heinous and evil act when the rest of our world was celebrating You-Know-Who's demise, and before placing our hero with a family known to hate our kind and against warnings of their abusive and criminal behavior. But the orphan Mister Potter has not yet come to any conclusions about pressing charges.' Something like that. Very posh, it was. Press ate it up. I imagine they'll print it full. Then we can have a copy. I'll paste it over the door of his cell when he gets in here, that I will."

"Old Ted and a couple of the boys are already downstairs getting a cell all nice and ready for him, painting his name on the door and everything. Awful nice of them to make him feel at home and all that. They're real sweet boys."

"Good cell, that one, too. Right on what we call here 'Dementor Boulevard'. Never can see the light of day from down there. Course the Head Jailer ain't forgotten you, Mister Snape. No, he hasn't. And he has a warm spot deep inside him where he don't want nobody to be lonely. So I've got fifty galleons I'm trying to wager he'll move you down there to be right next to your old pal. Pity nobody's willing to bet against me, not even at ten to one."

"It's better now than it once was. You see, so many Death Eaters took up residence that you couldn't hear yourself think for all the screaming. Before then it wasn't so bad, and now it seems awful quiet what with so many of your kind having taken up the Ministry's kind offer of an easy way out if they'd just help Miss Malfoy with her history."

"Her ladyship, you mean. Gone and gotten herself a title, she has."

"You're right, I'd forgotten. Anyway, her ladyship really cleaned it out, so you'll have no trouble at all down there. Smells alot better too, less rot in the air for one. Course that just brings in the scent from the sewers more, but you get to like it, really you do."

Snape's face was slack and fearful, as he muttered in a stunned voice, "Is there any chance either of you gentlemen could be persuaded to lend me a knife just long enough to open my wrists? I have extensive accounts in Gringotts I'd be willing to sign over in exchange for this kind act of charity."

"Kindness, eh?" The guards sneered at him, and one savagely turned the key to Sirius Black's cell they'd been neglecting in the lock all of this time they'd been talking. "Well ain't that the trick, the 'Horror of Hogwarts' is asking for kindness. Sorry, but we here are in what's called the 'Justice' business, and that means getting back what you'd gone and given to others, ain't it Rog?"

"Aye, Al, that it does. And I ain't recalling a single account of kindness from this here bastard, can you Al?"

"No, all I can seem to think of is me son in tears, coming home every year with tales of harsh words and cruelty, getting his dreams smashed and all that. So no, I ain't heard once of this nasty snake being the least bit kind to anyone."

"Ain't that the truth. Why, I've got cousins and a daughter that told me the same thing. No, I see no call for kindness here. Enjoy your stay, Mister Snape. There's hope it'll be a long one. But we'll make it nice for ya, really we will. Why, we'll get you your very own Dementor to be with you always. Ain't that just swell?"

"Then what are you doing with Black, the Traitor?" Snape asked curiously, controlling his fear for the moment, though he'd be quivering in a corner of his cell soon after they'd gone.

Both guards smiled. Al spoke cheerfully, "You know, now I feel a whole load better about letting him go like this. If you don't like him, maybe he is a good lad tossed in here unjustly like some are beginning to say he is. Anyway, we're taking him to the Ministry holding cells. He's to have a trial in the morning, due to some folks spotting the man he was supposed to have killed alive and well, all sorts of places."

As the big, steel door opened, Sirius was revealed in his cell unrumpled and unconcerned, sprawled about as if he lay on padded cushions instead of hard stone. He was even smiling. "Are you sure I have to go? Snivellus and I were having a wonderful conversation. I hadn't had this much fun in years."

Both guards shuddered involuntarily. Sirius was a legend in Azkaban prison. Nothing upset him, nothing affected him. They'd had him on Dementor Boulevard 'til he'd started creeping the guards out by being too cheerful all of the time, even surrounded by the dark creatures on all sides he'd be cracking jokes and smiling, offering to play cards if someone would lend him a deck. It had freaked out the warden so much they'd sent him up to solitary, where he was the only one on this level. And even that didn't appear to affect his perpetually high spirits. There were whispers about his magic being so strong nothing they did could really hurt him. His hair stayed looking right and clothes neat in spite of the filthy conditions as a sort of proof of his being greater than any other wizard they'd thrown in here.

The guards were frankly scared of him.

"Come along Mister Black, you're due to have a trial in the morning," Rog motioned the playful figure out. "And on behalf of the boys, if you really are innocent I'd like to say we're sorry about this and hope that you won't hold it against us."

"Not at all, my dear fellow." Sirius sprang out with a youthful bound, clasping the guard's hand and shaking it. "I couldn't imagine holding it against you for doing your job. Nothing to forgive. Why, if it's anyone's fault it's Dumbledore's for not using his influence to get me a trial when the previous Minister just wanted to slap me in here. But it appears that he was too busy performing deviltry against poor Harry. I only hope he has not permanently harmed my godson."

Al was in tears at this unexpected, even cheerful forgiveness. "Sir, if you've got that much good in you all I can say is I'm sorry, so sorry for me and the boys treating you like you was this bastard over here in the next cell."

"Think nothing of it." Sirius gave him an airy wave. "You acted as best you could with what you thought at the time. For my part, I'm sorry to say that I pranked you so many times. Well, so it's off to the Ministry with us? Goodbye, Snivellus, I know you'll be happy here."

The guards shuddered at that reminder. Black had played dead so many times, done weird pranks using only his meager meals, and popped some of the sickest and off the wall jokes in strange and imaginative ways that dealing with him was almost worse than the Dementors - at least with them you had an advantage. They were predictable.

Before they all walked off Rog looked at his hand and screamed in horror over what Sirius had left there, while the prankster broke up laughing on the floor. Al shuddered as he held his wand on the man, afraid and afraid to admit that he was afraid.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Sirius Black is just a FUN character to play with, you know that?

And yes, I know that isn't how he acted in the books. An explanation for that is even coming up. I like to think that it's even a good one. 


	14. Chapter 14

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Fourteen

by Lionheart

I O I O I

The accused was heavily restrained, under guard and securely bound, before Minister Fudge indicated that it was time for the audience to be let into the chamber to see this very public and high profile trial.

As the gallery began to fill a certain duchess was first into the courtroom and sat in a special box near to the Minister, reserved for those of high station. Ordinarily she'd be among the last to enter and be seated, but Nodoka didn't give a rat's fart about protocol in this instance and wanted to see the accused. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked upon him and she smiled, breathing a great sigh of relief as the rest of the gallery entered.

Nodoka Malfoy had somehow arranged, between all of those class schedule changes, to put all of her Slytherin students into classes on one day of the week, Friday, to be exact. Cologne had done the same with her history lessons, getting all-Slytherins on Thursday, although her Potion classes were still all mixed up throughout the week.

All week long the Slytherins had been hearing excited stories about how great a teacher Nodoka was, and it was with some enthusiasm that they filed into her classroom back at the school, only to discover to their vast disappointment that a substitute had been called in for the day's lessons, as Nodoka was required at court.

Dropping in to see the trial was only one of her many errands to the Ministry that day. So the Slytherins got taught by Filch, still in his ancient Quidditch helmet, and Nodoka had not left her equipment out where the squib could find it.

The House of ambition found itself with classes long on theory, with no spellwork and no exposure to those techniques involving the giant pensieve, only to get saddled with large amounts of homework. And Filch didn't even teach the theory well.

Nodoka played the numbers. More Slytherins had joined Dark Lords than any other House by far. If they felt comparatively weak, that made them all less likely to go off supporting the next Dark One's cause, resulting in fewer terrorists for the Light to be forced to fight.

It was unfair. But lack of fairness had never stopped Slytherins from murdering families in the dead of night. So they'd just have to learn to deal with it.

Back at the courthouse, the court aurors went out to give the accused a measured dose of three drops of Veritaserum, but Sirius shocked everyone by slipping a hand free as if the ropes weren't there, taking the bottle from them and downing it all in one gulp, something like three hundred drops worth, before sliding his hand back under the bindings.

His only reaction was to smack his lips and ask, "Excellent! Next time could you give me cherry? Or raspberry? Much better flavors than this tasteless nonsense. Makes me think I'm drinking a glass of water, and if there was water about then I think I'd find it a higher priority to wash than drink." The man gave a theatrical sniff of himself and grimaced.

Law Enforcement officers who'd dealt with Dementor victims before shuddered in horrified belief of all those tales they'd heard from the prison guards at Azkaban. There was no way this guy was human! It just couldn't be true that he could take ten or so years in that hell and be this cheerful. People who visited for an hour or two frequently took weeks to recover a normal outlook and fully bounce back to pre-visit levels.

Judges and magistrates who'd come to witness this trial, most of whom had only ever met Dementors in person for seconds at a time, stared bug-eyed at this legendary man who'd spent more than a third of his life among them, cracking jokes and pulling pranks.

There were people in that room who feared Sirius Black more than they did Voldemort, and not for his supposed crimes, but for his virtual immortality in Azkaban prison. No one, simply no one, stood up to those conditions as well as he did. He might have been partying on the beach or lunching with royalty for all of the effects he showed of his incarceration. Guards at that facility broke down more easily than this and had to be rotated out in less time than this man had spent there a prisoner.

And yet for all this he was as fun loving as he'd been as a teenager, lounging in the chair and making a joke out of the straps and ropes.

Fudge rapped his gavel and began the questioning by addressing the prisoner. "Sirius Black, you were the Secret Keeper for James and Lily Potter, correct?"

"No. I was not." Sirius shot back with a tired grimace.

The whole court, aside from the Lady Malfoy, gasped, and Sirius began to launch into an explanation of the double-blind he and the Potters had used, pretending to have one (fake) Secret Keeper everybody knew about as a distraction to draw focus away from the person who was to carry the real secret. No one interrupted, so he continued to talk, explaining the whole event like a tired bedtime story. As the tale progressed it became clear why Sirius had gone after Peter Pettigrew, and how the depth of betrayal increased as Peter had cut off his own finger, slain several muggles, and disappeared.

Sirius only neglected to mention how he'd changed into a rat, merely saying the traitor had vanished, letting the courtroom assume that the traitor had just apparated away at that time. He did not want to launch into an explanation of his own illegal animagus abilities, as that was hardly pertinent to the murders he had been imprisoned for.

Fudge had gone slack-jawed by the end of it and one of his subordinates had to nudge him to get him speaking again before an audience rightly horrified at the injustice perpetrated by just tossing this man into prison without a chance to explain himself.

"And have you anything to say in your defense?" Fudge sputtered out a gaff that was what he'd already had loaded up in his tiny mind before asking his first question.

His popularity dropped to a new low at that moment.

"Yes," Sirius answered him back seriously. "I do. I am innocent of any hint of desire to hurt the Potters. They were my best friends, and James was closer to me than a brother. I would have died before betraying any of them. A pity that we trusted that Pettigrew felt the same way, when he obviously did not. But I have done no wrong toward anyone to be imprisoned as you have done to me."

Sirius raised his head proudly. "I have never done anything for which I need feel ashamed. Well," and here his eyes twinkled. "Except there was that time I pranked my favorite cousin to have her teeth turn blue on her first date. But apart from that! Oh, and that time I charmed Lily's dress to turn invisible just to James for that big dance he was taking her to and he was stumbling all over the place, trying not to stare but unable to concentrate on dancing. And then there was that time I pranked the Warden to excess. Come to think of it, I've done alot of things about which I ought to feel ashamed (but don't). But that's beside the point! None of those were crimes! And they were all hilarious when viewed properly."

"It was YOU!!" Andromeda Tonks, the white sheep of Sirius' cousins, came up out of her seat roaring as she pointed to the accused, then sputtered to a stop. Her muggle-born husband had a soft smile on his lips as his wife saw the whole court focused on her, and sank back down in embarrassment.

Smiling to herself, Nodoka got up to leave as she had business to attend to and it would be awhile before the court proceedings drew to a close.

I O I O I

Mister Tonks led his wife away from the courtroom, past gobs of reporters and curious spectators. Her face was in her hands and her body wracked with spasms. He'd thought she was crying until she lost sufficient muscle control that she fell to her knees, reared back and revealed that she was laughing her head off.

"BWAWAHAhahahahaha!! The DRESS!! BWHAHAHA!!" The beautiful woman hooted with complete lack of dignity. "HAHAHA!! I remember that... BWAHAHAHA!! ... dress!! It was in their fourth year." Andromeda snorted and resumed laughing so hard tears did rise. "James had just gotten Lily to go with him! She'd spent ALL EVENING!! wondering why he'd... he''d... he'd been LOOKING AT HER FUNNY!! BAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!"

The woman fell to all fours, body shuddering with great gasps, trying to breathe through all of her laughter. "Lily thought she'd spilled something, or broken some obscure wizard rule of fashion, or... AHAHAHAHAHAHAA! Oooh, my gut hurts! She'd asked ALL her friends what could be wrong with her appearance that night! And it was backless! She couldn't wear a bra under it! Thinking of him, seeing her, in nothing more than shoes and panties!! Ahaha!! Oh! The pain! I can't breathe! And then... and then she took her wand that night and checked it over for any spell she might find. OH! She was furious! She must have thought James had done it on purpose!! Wouldn't speak to him all the rest of that year! But all this time it was Sirius! bwahahahaha!!"

"BUT! but... But the last thing James said to her that evening was to reassure his date, as she'd become frantic in concern, that... HE'D NEVER SEEN HER LOOKING LOVELIER!! BWAHAHA!!"

Enduring the stares of strangers and a certain smell alerting him that Andromeda had just lost bladder control, her husband stood by the snorting, choking and hooting woman, wondering if it couldn't be counted a mercy for him to stun her and levitate her home.

I O I O I

"Ah, your ladyship, very good of you to come on such short notice," the old clerk from the depths of the Ministry's bureaucracy spoke up, standing to gesture her to a seat. Sitting again himself after she had wafted to a comfortable chair, he adjusted his glasses. "As I'm sure you're no doubt aware, very few wizards hold titles. Unfortunately for us, that means we are dependent on muggle royalty for some decisions. Oh, there are work arounds, but they are tedious processes. Half the workers at the Ministry are dedicated to making us trudge through red tape that wouldn't have any need of existing at all if we had a proper noble to make choices for us."

Seeing her polite yet curious stare, the clerk smiled softly. "Oh, forgive me, I'm always here, and forget so easily that others don't understand the Ministry as well as I do. Our ancestors grew up in a monarchy, and always thought a monarchy would be the way things got run. As we separated from our muggle kin rules were set up by wizards to govern us more or less independently, but those rules were created by those who'd had kings for all of their lives, and always imagined they would. So quite a few processes of wizarding government boil down to 'Ask a noble', and yet we've always had few magical folk in the nobility, as the rest of the peerage felt threatened by their greater abilities - and it must be admitted, in some cases, lack of scruples in using those powers wisely. So the Crown has been very reluctant to issue new titles for us, and as war, inbreeding leading to insanity, and other forms of attrition bled us of our small supply of noble blood we have increasingly had to rely upon long, overly-complicated bureaucratic processes to work around what could be done with a noble's stamp and seal."

The old clerk folded his hands and looked at the duchess seriously over the rims of his glasses. "In short, Your Grace, other than your daughter you are the only noble witch in all of England that is not insane, permanently crippled, or otherwise unsuitable, and we need you to approve and sign things. Might I ask how you came by your many titles?"

"They have been for sale now for many years," Nodoka replied reasonably. "They never even asked if I was a witch or not."

"Excellent. You are not required to tell them if they do not ask. Hopefully among us there may be a few more with the money to purchase nobility. If that is so the Ministry can fade to a shadow of what it is now, and speaking as an insider, the magical world would be better for that. Far better. So, Your Grace, unless you have objections, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave your teaching post and come here to help us run our government."

Nodoka gave a single shake of her head. "No, I'm sorry, but I must object. My daughter and her friends are all in school now, and I had very little time with them growing up. I won't allow myself to be a stranger to my child or her social circle, and teaching their classes gives me access to their lives and a way to be a part of their upbringing. I won't surrender that. At least not while they are still in school."

"I see," the man adjusted his glasses again. "Then perhaps I could persuade you to give us some time during the week? A weekday of course, unfortunately the Ministry does not run anything but essential services on weekends. I must stress this is vital. Too much power is already accumulating in the Minister's unwise hands, and he uses it foolishly."

The duchess smiled. "How does Friday sound?"

"That will serve, Your Grace. If I could beg from you a second day, I would, but will not press it." The man humbly began making notes.

The noblewoman's smile had become brilliant. "Then I shall have to move her birthday present forward, and get my best friend Cologne a patent of nobility. She even has some experience running a magical government, as she is one of the matriarchs of a Chinese Amazon magical village."

The clerk gave her the smile of a man long tired of an impossible job seeing relief at last. "That could be better than I'd hoped for, Your Grace. Two nobles, not related by close ties of blood, are required to make decisions for so many things. I had given up hope of seeing that in my lifetime, but it simplifies so many tedious yet important tasks. Do you think she could give us another day, perhaps Thursday, or Monday? It's better if she gives us time close to what you've offered to us, yet not overlapping."

"Obviously I cannot commit for her," Nodoka enjoyed this moment. "But I think she'll give you Thursdays."

I O I O I

Sirius came out of the Ministry exit onto Diagon Alley to be greeted at the bottom of those steps by a fancy carriage with Nodoka waiting inside it.

Without a question he was inside and the driverless vehicle took off. Sitting in the heavily warded cab with her mother and the recently released innocent man was Ranko, who followed her mother's gentle gesture towards Sirius. "Ranko, I would like you to meet your father."

There came an astonished pause.

"Unfortunately, this isn't him." Nodoka sighed, while Sirius grinned.

"What do you mean, mom?" Ranko's eyes blinked in curiosity.

Nodoka sighed. "It's quite simple, actually. This is not Sirius Black."

Ranko sensed a story. "Perhaps you'd better tell me from the beginning, mom. That makes the really complicated tales turn out best, I've found."

Her mother nodded agreeably, her mind already lost in distant memory. "Dumbledore found me not long after I'd fled to Japan, I'm afraid. The only reason Voldemort didn't know was Dumbledore had not yet 'recruited' Snape at that time, so he couldn't spill that secret like he did so many others. Though if you want to be honest, Dumbledore did not recruit Snape any more than you did, Ranko. I've got proof and dozens of Death Eater memories of Voldemort ordering Snape to 'defect' and join the Light Side, so he could have his own spy in Dumbledore's order of vigilantes. So he was, and is, I suppose, a double agent. Both sides knew he worked for the other, but the great difference was that Albus trusts so easily that he gave 'his man' great secrets and Voldemort did not, leaving the Light to get crumbs, scraps and tidbits while the Dark collected the real meat from that exchange."

Sirius grinned playfully, leaning against the side of the shielded cab. "Please. Must you call him so respectfully? I hurts my ears. I prefer 'That Great Git', 'The Greasy Vampire' or, best of all, our own pet name for him: 'Snivellus'."

"Snivellus." Nodoka tasted that name, and found she liked it if her smile was anything to judge by. "Well, to get back to my story, Dumbledore found me early on, and tried several times to recruit me to join his own Order of the Phoenix, for most of those same reasons that Voldemort wanted me to serve him. One of the messengers he sent was the most charming Pureblood I'd ever met."

"Mom." Ranko's tone indicated that her mother was wandering off topic again, and it was time to get to the heart of it.

Nodoka fiddled with her wrapped bundle, looking out the window, as she admitted. "Well, this isn't going to come out for some while yet, but Ranma, you are Sirius Black's son. Not a lot of people know that, especially not those on the dark side, and I'd prefer things remain that way for a while, for reasons I'd love to get into, but you are too impatient to hear as I've put off telling you your lineage for long enough. I'm truly sorry, girl."

"It's okay, mom. A chunk of three day old sushi woulda made a better father than Genma. Just don't keep me waiting, okay? I want to know."

"Very well, dear."

"Perhaps I can speed this up." Sirius broke in, flinging an arm about Ranko and facing her mother with the widest possible grin that a human face could support. "After Nodoka fled, Dumbledore found her fairly early. She would not respond to his pleas to return, however, so he tried a couple of things. Her closest, dearest friends were my three cousins: Narcissa, Bellatrix and Andromeda, and while none of those were available to do long range secret missions recruiting for the Light, I was, so Dung-Bomb-boy sent me."

Nodoka was nodding, "even though I believe the dates work out so he was still in school at the time. We fell in love, and a baby I named Ranma was the result. You got the 'wild' part of your name in honor of your father's prankster attitude and untamable ways."

Sirius bent down low over Ranko's ear, still watching Nodoka as he whispered. "I took an aging potion for the mission, so I looked the same age as your mother for the time I'd be over there. Romantic men have much better appeal to lonely women than teenagers, you know, and Double-dork thought I'd have a much better chance to get her to return being suave and sexy. But it didn't work, I was back in school by the time she had you, without a possibility for parole. No portkey, no visiting. I didn't even truly know where your mother was, and she was hidden so well I didn't dare go looking without a hint of where to start. So I bugged the Bubble-Fart for information, but he never did drop a clue."

"I did make one trip back, before this one." Ranko's mother admitted shyly. "When I'd heard that Voldemort fell I came immediately to rejoin Sirius, who I still very much love. But I found him in the grasp of dozens of Aurors, taking him under arrest."

"What did you do?" Ranko breathed so softly if it hadn't been so silent in the carriage she never could have been heard.

Nodoka stopped watching the scenery go by and turned a face lined with tears to her child. "I pretended to hate him, walked right up to him through I don't know how many aurors, and gave him my best slap on one cheek."

Sirius couldn't wait to explain, so he busted into her monologue with the gritty details, all excited to share them with Ranko. "You see, she was wearing a hollow ring on her hand, with a needle toward the palm. She'd already opened a cut in her finger to fill that ring with living blood, and when she slapped me the needle cut my face, mixing both fluids so there was a blood connection between us in that instant. Then she twirled the Time Turner she'd kept in her pocket with her other hand."

"Ten spins," Nodoka agreed. "Because of that momentary link he came with me ten hours into our past, before there came aurors, or anyone, onto that site. I calmed him down and got him to explain what had happened."

"Then she did the Greatest Thing!" Sirius broke in once again, only to catch Nodoka's glance and pretend fear, curling up and covering his lips. "Oops."

The duchess smiled. "I wasn't about to let my love be arrested for something he'd never done. So I convinced him to hide (no easy thing, I assure you), and made a replacement. I grabbed an old dressmaker's dummy I had in my trunk. But those are just torsos, so I tore off some sleeves and filled them with padding, sewing them on for arms, then did the same with some pants, gloves and socks to make the rest of a human form."

Sirius could contain his excitement no longer, and gleefully explained to the young girl. "She transfigured it to look like me, a pretty advanced Animated Transfiguration if you ask me, like the ones they use to create Wizards' Chess pieces animated and able to play at fighting."

"And then I painted that with magical paints with a spark of his personality to them to create a walking portrait, which I sealed against the elements so filth and wetness couldn't ruin it." Nodoka nodded, pleased at her success.

The false Sirius pulled open his shirt and encouraged Ranko to poke his chest. "I look real, I feel like the real deal to the touch, and I certainly ACT like the real Sirius, and can move and walk and talk just like the real Sirius Black thanks to the magic of my creation. But I'm not truly alive. So I don't bruise, can't suffer starvation (had to cram all of my food down the toilet, all of those bits I didn't use for pranks, that is), won't be afflicted by poor hygiene or diseases, couldn't care less about the light level or temperature in my environment, and best of all I'm completely immune to a Dementor's powers. They even had one kiss me once, in secret when they didn't think anybody would know, or care, and I'd been annoying them too much. I just planted a big, wet, sloppy one right back on that thing's tentacled face and gave the guards a heart attack! I LOVED the looks on their faces!"

The painted double continued to gloat, gleefully. "I can turn my pulse on or off, don't need to breathe at all really, and can just drop the act to play very convincingly dead. Ooh! You won't even guess how many times I used that to prank guards in that place! Then, because I am mostly cloth beneath all of the magic, I could slip out of bonds or between bars, weigh as little as I wanted to, and could sneak into the guard's quarters to lay atop them, leering with great big evil grins, playing dead right on top of them, eye to eye, waiting for them to wake up. OOOOOHH!! You should have seen those faces! Bwahaha!!"

The fake Sirius broke up laughing, unable to contain his mirth as he fell of his seat and rolled about the carriage floor, holding his gut.

Nodoka had calmed down enough to give a wan smile. "It took five hours of ritual magic just to get him shielded enough so those people couldn't detect or cancel the magic I'd used to make him. Dumbledore probably could have told I'd done it, but he never visited. And once our replacement was done, I loaded it with those chains I'd taken off Sirius, took it to the exact spot and positions we had been in as I'd slapped him, and reset my own custom Time Turner to take us forward to the moment we'd left. I'm told we didn't even flicker as I'd made the switch. Then I simply walked away from aurors and my replacement Sirius, as if in an angry huff over his 'betrayal'."

"Your mother is truly a brilliant witch to have pulled that off." The false Sirius confided to the young girl. "You'd not believe how complicated that charm was she cast to get herself and me in exactly the right places doing exactly the same things during our arrival, mid-slap, I'd like to add!" The animated dummy rolled back to sprawl over the seat. "AND, pulled my old wand out of an auror's pocket, switching that with a fake as she walked off, all upset over me. Even that fake had to be almost as top notch as I was, just in case they examined it before they broke it."

Nodoka giggled, covering her mouth. "I did make one or two little mistakes, like when they checked the wand (and I did make a real wand out of those same materials to replace his, just that mine was lower grade, second rate at best), when they checked it they'd found the last spell that it had been used to cast was a hair-styling charm. They've been puzzling over that ever since. Well, until today, probably."

"So, you're just a scarecrow, like from the Wizard of Oz, huh?" Ranko turned toward the amazingly real and lifelike replacement, who was at last lying down.

"After recent experience I prefer the term Scare-Snape, myself." The false Sirius replied. "And I don't know about this Oz fellow, or what he did to compare to your mother's genius. She fooled the whole Ministry to her benefit, you know that? Even at my best I never did a prank that good."

Ranko turned to face her mother, asking innocently. "I guess now I get to know my real dad, at least by proxy anyway. Right?"

Nodoka was shaking her head sorrowfully. "I'm sorry dear. 'Sirius' is something of a legend in Azkaban because of the complete immunity he shows toward the effects of dementors, but that's because he's just a painting. Once Dumbledore hears of his release he'll try to get Sirius back into his Order again, and there is no way he won't discover this Sirius is a fake. He'll be able to see through my spells preventing our walking portrait from being revealed. I'm sure he's already heard of his Dementor immunity and was always going to 'get around' to dropping by to see how he did it, so he could use that defense for his own people. So Dumbledore will seek him out now for those reasons, and others."

The duchess sighed mournfully. "But I'd only ever prepared this dummy to take Sirius' place in prison. Outside of that environment, I'm afraid that he can be exposed very easily. For instance, your father is among the more powerful mages in Britain, but his Scare-Snape double is completely incapable of doing magic other than what I built into him, which is just to pretend life. That enables most of magical society to see that something is wrong right off. I'd wondered about saying that his prison term damaged his magic core, or twisted it in some way, but then medi-witches, healers and researchers would descend upon him and carry him off to St. Mungo's to fix that problem for him, and they'd find out this wasn't a real person awfully quickly themselves. And he couldn't, realistically, refuse."

"So what happened to my real father, where is he?" Ranko asked, concerned.

Surprisingly, it was the Scare-Snape that answered. "The real Sirius got obsessed about going back in time and saving the Potters. He left, vanishing, and Nodoka hasn't seen him since. He could be anywhere, or anywhen for that matter."

"And his Scare-Snape will have to vanish too, I'm afraid." Nodoka whispered softly. "It is so much easier to decide on reasons for him leaving than it would be to cover up his flaws if he were to remain here. We can easily say he's got no faith in Britain's magical government, for one. That is the reason I didn't stay after my one, brief return. I was terrified that the Ministry had gotten just as bad as Voldemort in their fear of him."

Now sitting on the padded bench again beside Ranko, the animated doll with magic paints that looked and acted surprisingly like a real person added, "I can also say I'd like to stretch my legs after so long between walls, just vanish and drop off the face of magical Britain."

"That might be best." Nodoka nodded sadly, looking at the carriage floor.

"So," Ranko put some thought into how to phrase this delicately. "What are we going to do with the Scare-Snape? He can't actually roam the continent, could he?"

"No, because without magic he'd be discovered easily, and once discovered exposed." Her mother sighed, looking back up at her traveling companions. "Well, with his horrid mother gone, how about we renovate that house he grew up in and let him stay there? He can talk with the other paintings and keep the House Elf company while reading the Black library. That was where the real Sirius went to try and discover a way to get back in time and save the Potters, so our best route of discovering your father's path is to have our Scare-Snape research it from the same source. I can just put that building under Fidelius Charm so no one could find him while he works. How is that?"

"Can I prank my mother's portrait?" The false Sirius asked regally.

"Of course!" She giggled.

"Then you've got a deal!"

"Ranko, we'll need you. The Black family House Elf is a difficult one, and seeing as how you are the only remaining direct descendant of the Black family line (and Sirius names you as such, and sole heir in his will) you'll have to give Kreacher a few very specific and carefully worded direct orders for this to work right: Making it obey our fake Sirius for one, ignoring his mother's portrait for another. Cleaning duties must be resumed also, I've stopped by and that home is a mess. Would you like to carry the secret for us? It's a good experience that teaches a good many things about your own magic. Plus, this way you can visit our fake to get to know your real father a little."

"Sure mom." Ranko beamed.

I O I O I

"Minerva, I have found the substance that was used for this catastrophe." Dumbledore said as he entered his office and placed a plastic bottle of fabric softener upright on his wooden desk. "But I am afraid I am no closer to finding the culprit. I suggest you go looking in your House, as others are now doing to theirs. Perhaps the guilty party will come forward on their own."

Minerva McGonagall was shaking her head. "I'd never have imagined something could have affected the Sorting Hat, that anyone could dare try! But after what happened... what it did Wednesday night, first refusing to Sort, then it's songs have gotten so silly... I could no longer doubt it. Albus, what are we going to do?"

"We have only until Sunday night left to do reSorting. Perhaps if we find the guilty party he or she can tell us what charm of jinx they used with this muggle potion and counter it. If not, then we will have to get through this year as best we may, and trust in the students to deal with everything in spite of difficulty. Come, McGonagall. We must search quickly."

As the two left, the Sorting Hat up on its shelf cracked an eye open, then struggled upright, hopped down off the high perch, fluttering to land after a short glide on the desk, knocking a few instruments askew as it did so. Then it waddled forward over to the bottle, gripped it in its brim like a pair of mittens, doffed the cap and tilted the bottle back to guzzle its contents.

Shorty after the Professors had reached the first dorm room, the school's magical PA came to life, with the improbably loud voice of the Sorting Hat singing:

"Immanuel Kant was a real pissant who was very rarely stable.  
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar who could think you under the table.  
David Hume could out-consume Wilhelm Friedrick Hegel.  
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine who was just as schloshed as Schloegel.

"There's nothin' Nietzsche couldn't teach ya 'bout the raisin' of the wrist.  
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.

"John Stewart Mill, of his own free will,  
on half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.  
Plato, they say, could stick it away;  
half a crate of whiskey every day.  
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle. Hobbes was fond of his dram.  
Rene Descartes was a drunken fart. "I drink therefore I am." "

"Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed.  
A lovely little thinker but a bugger when he's pissed."

When they at last broke back into the Headmaster's office (the password had been changed to "Schnapps"), they found the drunken hat collapsed over the pickup, snoring away.

Dumbledore righted the spilled bottle, waving his wand to encourage all of the liquid back into the plastic container. "Minerva, I believe we have a problem. Who was able to get into my office and do this?"

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

It's almost hard to realize why more people don't use the Sorting Hat, y'know? It can be quite a character. 


	15. Chapter 15

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Fifteen

by Lionheart

I O I O I

As he collapsed into the Ministry holding cell to await trial Monday morning, Severus Snape was never more grateful for bare stone walls, and notably the absence of: Dementors, the stench of rot and death, and the endless, howling and screaming of men with broken minds. No, the holding cell was heaven at that moment. They might even let him wash the scabs and sores or give him a potion to deal with his growing illness so he didn't infect the court.

Not for the first time, Severus found himself in awe over Sirius' ability to stay untouched by that environment, when a mere few days had been hell, and he'd seen how it had all but destroyed some of the strongest people he knew, Death Eaters he had truly admired.

He had almost stopped gibbering by the time Dumbledore arrived.

The Headmaster acted as though under a heavy burden as he conjured a chair to sit on. "I don't know what to do, Severus. I asked Professor McGonagall for help and she vowed to use her influence to drive me from the school if I continued to support you, which she has begun to do. After a brief period to recover my wits I asked Professor Sprout for aid and she went so far as to spit in my face when I said I needed help protecting you. I will spare you what she said. Professor Flitwick mysteriously fails to hear me, constantly changing the subject whenever I bring you up, and most of the other teachers follow his lead, though both Professors Vector and Sinistra told me to my face that a trained monkey could teach Potions better than you, and Hagrid, who has always seemed so trusting, told me that he would go ahead and order one to replace you if I found our current substitute inadequate, his face inflamed by what I believe to be rage. So I put this question to you: what, exactly, have you done to offend my entire staff so bitterly? And how might we repair the damage in time to save your life and perhaps career? Though I am afraid I can no longer guarantee the latter. It seems that my own position is more shaky than I'd previously thought."

"You know full well what I've done, and why I did it." Snape found enough of himself to sneer spitefully.

"Ah, yes." Albus agreed remorsefully. "I'm afraid I do. Yet I am beginning to see the other side of it now, and I do begin to wonder if the cost was worth it."

"What do you mean?" The Potion Master speared him with a gaze.

"Your work, Severus, has been abysmal. I tried to encourage you to teach students other than your own Slytherins by giving you two Houses per class. But you managed to work around me. I found some time this week to ask around among the older students and you have consistently managed to keep all Houses but your own ignorant of basic ingredient preparation, rules of stirring, and other essential facts required to brew properly. I know you know them, Severus. But you have refused to teach them, or at least refused to impart the most basic, essential facts to anyone you did not like, and it has been inescapably brought to my attention that you hated three of our Houses by default. So I begin to wonder how many extra Aurors and Healers your tenure at Hogwarts has cost us. I am ashamed that it took me this long to notice that your prejudice runs so deep as to deal so grievous a wound to the entire wizarding world out of your own childish grudge. But as I look over evidence at last, it is undeniable it has. In short, you have refused to teach the subject you were hired to teach. I don't know what to do for you, or what I should do with you, Severus."

"I had to maintain my cover," the greasy man pled.

"Voldemort knew that you were a spy, Severus. You told me yourself that he had ordered you to join the side of Light. Perhaps I was more foolish than I thought to trust you with so much. My choice to do so has cost so many good Order members their lives, and I now begin to see just how many careers it has destroyed as well. Cost for benefit, you were a very poor choice of investment, I'm afraid, and I am ashamed of myself for only discovering this as I tried to gather evidence to defend you, and found that there was none. In the words of the rest of my staff, your behavior has been inexcusable."

Snape's face went stiff and guarded, but he said nothing.

Albus broke into a smile. "Still, I am a firm believer in second chances. After I get you out of here it will be my pleasure to take you back to Hogwarts, where perhaps you will find it in your heart to do better this time."

"I believe he will find me a better patron." Lucius Malfoy said from behind the old man, his hands toying with the silver head of his ebony walking stick as he stood in the open door of the cell. Looking past the Headmaster, Lucius captured Snape with an imperial gaze. "Come along with me, I've paid your bail. You are free of this wretched place until your trial. We have much to discuss to prepare you for that."

The two Death Eaters swept out of the cell, leaving Dumbledore alone.

I O I O I

Under cover of a happy coincidence of the Headmaster having to deal with the Sorting Hat and Snape acting as distraction, a certain History Professor got in and out of the Headmaster's office unseen, and without using magic, just martial arts and chi abilities.

But with Dumbledore at last dealing with those emergencies, they had a little time. Nodoka called the group together, ran them through a magic circle boosting her Time Turner, taking them back several hours, and then took them to her private tower.

Arriving in a jumble, the girls learned at last what the rush was all about.

Cologne swished up to the backup class-sized pensieve that Nodoka kept in her office, lifting a rack of bottles filled with what appeared to be silvery mist. Setting it down once they had seen it, she selected and then opened one, pouring its contents into the stone basin. "I have this rather annoying talent for breaking and entering, when it is needed. This theft I am sure will get discovered within hours after it was made. So I discussed it with Nodoka and she agreed that we should make use of this at once, despite the almost certainty that we will get caught doing it. The only time we have for sure is that twelve hours we traveled back."

Replacing the empty bottle on the shelf, she smoothed her skirt down over her hips. "I found this rack in Dumbledore's office, labeled as his research record into Voldemort. I think we should all see what that old man has collected, don't you?"

They dove in, finding the first record to be of the Gaunt family, last pureblood descendants of Salazar Slytherin. What they saw of that family did not impress them with the nobility of that bloodline, but it did lead to a useful surprise - all of them could understand, and speak, parseltongue. Nodoka told them if it had been a magical gift of Voldemort's, presumably it should have been shared out among them by the magic ritual where they stole some of his powers. Certainly none of them could ever recall listening to snakes talk that way before, so it appeared to have done so.

Going through the rack, it became obvious that Dumbledore had been collecting memories associated with Voldemort for a very long time. They witnessed several of Tom Riddle's school experiences, from Dumbledore's perspective and others. They saw the cruel young boy informed that he was a wizard, and when he admitted to having some effective control of his magic without either formal training or wand they became quite impressed at the basic power level they had stolen.

Cologne made notes to begin practicing wandless magic at once, so they could hopefully achieve at least the same measure of control.

The group forged on, watching precious stored memories from dozens of sources, some of those quite confusing until they later watched others and obscure hints and references came clear at last. After each memory Cologne and Nodoka each made copies, using advanced spells to create duplicates they hid in drawers. The only drawback to that spell, assuming you could cast it, was they could only make copies of memories they had already seen. So they charged through them as quickly as they could.

They saw the boy Tom Riddle go to the Gaunt home and heard what he learned there. At the end of each memory Nodoka kept a log, making notes and keeping a transcript of the information they'd learned on the expectation they'd lose this resource soon, as its theft was sure to get discovered, and who knew if Dumbledore could detect and take their copies?

As time counted down the children all donned muggle disguises in anticipation of being found out, and removed their Hogwarts robes to put on unmarked, oversize ones that hid any distinguishing characteristics. They wanted to see those memories and not be recognized. A slender hope for security was better than none, and they hadn't planned this out well beforehand.

They had just finished watching the young Voldemort interview with Hepsibah Smith when they heard the Headmaster's voice coming from the tower entrance. "I should think, Nodoka, that movies would be more suitable to young children than filling their minds with innocence destroying tales of evil. Cologne, I am both surprised and disappointed to find you here."

Cologne shot him a very cocky grin as the children darted under the table to hide under the trailing edge. "And miss this History lesson? Headmaster, you underestimate my curiosity towards my subject." The young matriarch giggled confidently. "How could I turn this chance down? We've just seen young Tom Riddle shown a pair of priceless antiquities, including a locket that once belonged to his mother."

"Hepsibah Smith unfortunately died not many days after that scene, and both of those items went missing from her collection." Dumbledore strode powerfully into the room, and with a stroke of his wand, caused that his rack of precious memories shrank and flew into a sleeve on his robe, where it disappeared. They'd probably never view the rest of them.

His expression changed, however, from disappointment and anger to something else like surprise when he saw the open log sitting by Nodoka's elbow. Without asking, he picked it up and perused a small selection, then began to flip pages, looking steadily less upset, and at last a trifle jolly. He lowered the book, after precious minutes, with something of a smile on his face. "You can understand parseltongue, Nodoka?"

"Yes," She nodded carefully watching him for signs. "Apparently as a side effect of my ritual with Nagini."

"Interesting," Dumbledore turned back to the book, continuing to flip until he had perused the whole log. When he lowered it he did not look as mad. Not at all, he looked almost glad. "Understand me, Nodoka, when I say that I had feared somewhat because of your family and habits, that you might have a connection to the dark; especially in light of your treatment of poor Severus. But I find here no record of anything like admiration for Voldemort, and no interest in following in his footsteps, only a desire to see him destroyed. That reassures me, and also I find this transcript of what was said in parseltongue to be most enlightening and useful. I had feared that it could have been many things. Many of those concerns are now laid to rest, and I can concentrate on other venues of my search."

He took the log, and shoved that also into his sleeve. "I shall borrow this for a time, Nodoka. In return I would like to share with you one or two little insights into Tom Riddle; and the first is that he is a trophy keeper, one who seeks to inflate the image of his own importance by establishing ownership of things important to others, or the world at large. Secondly, that he has never had any friends, nor did he wish any. Many have thought they were close to him, and all of them were wrong. His followers are his disposable soldiers, viewed as easily replaceable and unimportant individually. He is a most dangerous person because to him no one else has any importance or value, nor have they, or will they to him, ever."

Dumbledore left and under the table the children lifted their eyes from the floor where they had dropped them upon hearing him enter, partly to give an appearance of innocence and remorse, but mostly that came as a useful side effect of the key issue of avoiding eye contact so he could not read their minds.

I O I O I

Breakfast in the Great Hall was awkward, as Snape had rejoined the staff at the head table. While officially removed from his teaching position until review by the Board of Governors, he was still Head of Slytherin House and remained on due to the machinations of Lucius Malfoy, one of those school governors. Dumbledore had been only too glad to receive his old friend back as an on-call substitute.

This eagerness of Dumbledore's was just one aspect of Snape's return that was resented by all of the rest of the staff. Nodoka had refused to even join the head table that day, and was instead sitting with her daughter at the Ravenclaw table, laughing and making jokes like an oversized student.

Snape had been glowering at her all morning, and snapping at anyone nearby. When he asked for a plate of sausages to McGonagall's left he did it so nastily that at last she'd had enough and, once she'd picked up the heavy, deep, silver dish, she swung it as hard as she could and beaned him in the face with it, knocking the man and his chair backwards away from the table, spilling franks and hot fat all over himself and his clothes.

Minerva McGonagall then strode away from the staff table and went and sat with the Gryffindors, choosing a spot that the Weasley twins opened up for her with wide smiles and glad faces.

Susan Bones won an awful lot of money on that bet she'd made earlier that week.

I O I O I

Nodoka excused herself from the table at the conclusion of breakfast with a nod toward her daughter. The girls in her study group had a busy day of socializing and making friends planned, building up contacts and of course having fun. Having your mother hang around could easily be misinterpreted and get in the way.

Instead, Nodoka immediately began to leave the grounds. Something Dumbledore had said about Voldemort's character had been tickling at the back of her mind and she wanted to check to see if her hunch was right. So no sooner had she reached the outer limit of the wards than she apparated away, appearing at the edge of a country road next to the ruins of the Gaunt house. But her eyes were not for that, and the elegant woman quickly made her way down the lane to Riddle Manor.

There was an old caretaker, but that man was easily charmed - by words, not by magic. Nodoka was a wealthy woman, and a duchess. For her to be in the mood to obtain a large property like this one was perfectly in keeping with normalcy, and asking to be shown around before she made that choice was all too everyday an occurrence. Except that this home was said to have been the site of a terrible tragedy and haunted, but there wasn't a complete lack of people who sought out supposedly haunted places for thrills, or just plain did not believe those stories.

So Nodoka got the guided tour of the whole place, by the one man left who had once seen it in operation as a family dwelling, and been a servant to that household.

As she was led through, Nodoka saw signs everywhere that Death Eaters had used this place for secret meetings and such in the time since the family had died, so no wonder no muggles had bought it. It was truly a lovely property, but incidents had almost assuredly befallen any muggles who had dared to come close to it. Absently, Nodoka wondered how many times this kindly old caretaker had been Obliviated or subject to Imperius.

At the end of her tour Nodoka was impressed. This was a wonderful house, and on the spot the duchess decided to buy it to put it back into operation, if only to deny it as a secret headquarters to her enemies when Voldemort returned. So she sent off the caretaker to fetch a real estate agent with the necessary paperwork, and while he was gone, she began to poke into likely looking corners for the magical tomes and treasures the Death Eaters had probably hidden away.

That was when a sudden figure came upon her by surprise around a corner.

"The Cup!" Nodoka swirled around, astonishment written on her features to see the school's Headmaster emerge from a previously unnoticed, magically concealed secret passage in the manor, holding in his hands a small golden cup she recognized had once belonged to Hepsibah Smith, and long before her, Helga Hufflepuff.

She didn't need to state the obvious fact that Dumbledore had followed her here from the school, and probably wandered off into a passage he'd discovered while she was taking the tour.

For that matter, he didn't feel the need to state so obvious a fact either.

"Ah, thankfully I was alert to signs of magical concealment." Dumbledore smiled, eyes a-twinkling, as he held the cup to his chest with one hand. "And it is indeed a horcrux. I find I must wonder how many of them Tom Riddle made. Alas, I fear it would be of small use to you, Nodoka, as you have already tasted of Voldemort's power."

Nodoka sighed and met him in the eyes. "No. But I do want to save that cup, which is a priceless artifact. And I am willing to draw an echo circle, so a group of your choice gets the same benefits I did. I may not be your friend, Albus, but I am certainly not your enemy."

"Truly?" He interrupted her, a kindly twinkle in his eyes. "I seem to recall certain instances I could hardly term as anything but hostile."

Nodoka rolled her eyes at him. "It's true I am opposed to you on certain issues. But if you'd ask yourself this: Have you ever taken a blow from me when you weren't defending some evil thing? You'd get your answer: No, you haven't. You have protected horribly abusive people, and it has cost you, Albus. My attacks have been directed at them, not you. The injuries you suffered by my hand you gained in shielding those who had committed crimes from receiving the proper punishment due those crimes. I have yet to launch a single attack directed at you. Now do you want to be a parselmouth? I confess that I don't think the ritual would do much for your power level."

"Alas, I cannot participate. However, I have many friends, including a few who may desire that advantage."

"I am willing to help, provided you don't ask for anything objectionable."

"Your help would be greatly appreciated, Professor Malfoy. I have, alas, no one else I could trust who is able to draw an appropriate echo circle." Dumbledore twinkled.

"Well then, who would you like to attend the ceremony?" She lofted an eyebrow.

"Well, of course, I would like to start by..."

"Not Snape." Nodoka interrupted him. "Whatever professional integrity he ought to have, he doesn't. If you have no regard for his inability to teach, and his complete lack of courtesy or professional decorum, you might have some regard for the indisputable FACT that what power he already has he abuses constantly. I will not be a party to giving him any more, and if you choose to insist on it we'll have to end this discussion before it has started."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I know better now than to challenge you on your position on this, though I do wish you'd reconsider."

"I'll be checking for Polyjuice before we start any rituals, Albus. I'll only arm the circle AFTER I am confident that your spy is nowhere nearby." Nodoka looked no less stern than before. "I cannot possibly emphasize enough how strongly I feel about this."

"So I see," The old man nodded once again, looking more tired than before. "In that case I would like you to consider Argus Filch."

Nodoka's eyes widened in disbelieving shock. "Filch treats students as if they are vermin to be eradicated from his castle! The only thing keeping him from being a terribly dark wizard, and probably a Death Eater, is that he's not even a wizard at all! Heaven made the world a better place when it made him a squib, and I find your lack of regard for anything resembling character in your first two recommendations appalling! Perhaps you have forgotten the most important prerogative? If so, let me enlighten you. I am willing to participate, yes even do the whole thing for you, but I insist that people whose magic are to be boosted are those who can be trusted implicitly to use those extra powers for Light. No spies or questions, Albus. If not, I will withhold my help from you on this."

The old man looked defeated. "I recommend him only for one thing, Nodoka, and that is his hate and his anger both stem from jealousy. And I feel that if that matter were resolved he might come around to being an excellent fellow. He was one once, you know, his first year before he dropped out."

"However he came by his dark emotions, Albus, they are well established now. And it would do well for you to consider that basic changes in fundamental character are rare, and more so the older we grow. If Filch were to have the moral fortitude to change his nature before getting a power boost I might consider him. Then again I might not, as there are plenty of better candidates more deserving, with proven track records."

She regarded him with a long look and a wry grimace. "Take your pick, Headmaster. You can do this ritual yourself, take your chances at duplicating my precautions, and get only one subject's magic boosted - did you not just admit that you had no one you could trust to draw you an appropriate echo circle? But doing so you could have the slimiest, sleaziest rapist and murderer of your choice with morals as reprehensible as you could ask. Or you could do this according to my preferences and boost the powers of seven good people and true who are likely to continue the fight even if it looks like we are losing. Character is important for a reason, Albus, as are morals to choose the right."

"Do you have any objections to Molly?" The old man tentatively asked.

"None whatsoever. I think she is a fine choice, and if you'd started with her we never would have ventured into an argument based on character. I also think her husband Arthur would be an excellent person to consider, but leave that selection up to you. It is your cup, after all. I am just an assistant on this."

Albus nodded. "Arthur and Molly are both acceptable to me. How do you feel about their two oldest boys? Bill is a Curse Breaker for Gringott's, and Charlie a Dragon Keeper in Rumania. Both have excellent moral character, and close ties to the Light and their family."

"I'll have to meet them, of course. But they sound fine." Nodoka allowed.

"I shall arrange it, hopefully for this weekend. Does Professor McGonagall meet with your approval?"

"Indeed, she does."

"Then I hope my last two choices do not shock you. There is a miss Arabella Figg, a squib of my acquaintance, who helped us fight Voldemort in the last war. I cannot recommend her loyalty highly enough, but perhaps it will be sufficient if I explain that it was she that I trusted to look over young Harry Potter while he was in hiding these last ten years."

"I'm sure you think well of her, yet I'd still like to meet her. Although it amuses me that of your seven potential candidates for this, you'd chosen a pair of squibs. Though the first one had to be refused."

"The way I see it, Nodoka, they stand to benefit the most from this procedure of yours. It is those who already enjoy the most power who need a gain the least. Arthur and Molly both have a regrettable lack of raw potential which I'd like to see corrected. And their two oldest boys have compensated quite admirably for lower than average innate talent by acquiring exceptional knowledge and understanding. I feel with this boost to their potential they'd have what it takes to be truly great wizards, and we shall need such on our side."

Nodoka looked curiously at the old man. "Agreed, but then why did you recommend your Transfiguration Teacher?"

"Something of an apology for abusing her trust all these years. But she also suffers from almost the same troubles as the two oldest Weasley boys, though slightly less extreme on both ends: Her lack of potential is not as serious, and her drive to obtain knowledge is somewhat less. Yet once again, through this process I feel she could be a fine witch indeed. One worthy of being feared by Voldemort and his allies, instead of almost disregarded."

"Then you think of Snape the same way?"

"Not entirely. He is overall a moderately strong wizard who has remarkable gifts for Potions and the Dark Arts. Yet I feel that in his unique position he could benefit us greatly from being able to understand the secret tongue Voldemort uses. Are you going to relent? I feel if you give Snape a chance he could be enormously useful."

"No, I will not relent. No matter what his talents, he has only ever used them for evil. I'm not going to be a part of granting him more power. So, am I to assume that you will be the final person of the seven to participate?"

"No, Nodoka. There is no need. I am already quite powerful enough as it is. Instead I would like for you to consider an unusual request: One of our older students, a seventh-year by the name of Nymphadora Tonks. She has a most unusual gift, in that she is a natural shape shifter, a metamorphamagus. Once again she compensates for below average powers by a determination to succeed, and is well on her way toward a career among the aurors. I feel having her talents available to us could be a great advantage, perhaps greater if she was also a parselmouth."

"Young Nymphy is a metamorph?"

"You know her?"

"Her mother and I were old friends. We even traded letters for a few years during the war, though by muggle post as owls were likely to be intercepted. I always longed to bounce her daughter on my knee, but never got the opportunity. We even traded photographs, though that had to stop, as Regulus visited her once and saw my picture on her mantle. He was still loyal to Voldemort then, and told the Death Eaters of that lead. Thankfully it was of me in a simple swimsuit on an empty beach, so they had no real clues to follow. But we did have to cut off contact with each other, lest they attack her to get to me. Snape did pop by once, with a few of his Death Eater friends, but thankfully aurors showed up in time to drive them all off. Poor Andromeda had to move after that experience."

"So Nymphadora is acceptable?"

"Perfectly. I've spoken with her several times since school started and she is a wonderful girl I'd be happy to have on our side in this war. Nymphadora has actually impressed me with her cheer and drive, I just didn't suspect her of becoming an auror or being a shapeshifter."

"How soon would you like to proceed?"

"Presuming I can meet everyone beforehand, I could have the ritual ready for tomorrow night. You'll just have to trust me with that cup an hour or two beforehand."

"Do you require secrecy?"

"No."

"Then I shall trust it to you, but would like to watch your setup, and what you do to prepare."

"The thought makes me uncomfortable, but if we are to be allies it is only fair."

I O I O I

Nodoka and Dumbledore came back to Hogwarts school well in time to reach the regularly scheduled, weekly staff meeting held just prior to lunch.

Unlike previous years where these were dull, monotonous affairs where very little new was going on and virtually no issues had to be discussed, something was obviously different about this one right off.

For one it was noisy, with several folks chattering at once. This was quite a change from the regular, dull, almost-classroom level of hypnotic stillness. Another great difference was the level of animation of the teachers involved. People were moving about, gesturing, talking and sometimes even laughing.

Now, some of this was due to the rather remarkable events of this, their first week of school that year, where they had already had one teacher suspended (and Snape's fate was high on everyone's mind, even though he'd chosen not to attend this meeting), several fights between staff, the as-yet unresolved burglary of Filch's office (and what effect the loss of his detention records would have just HAD to be discussed at length), the Headmaster's own decreased popularity and political troubles, not to mention the rather remarkable dynamic of the new teachers and the increasing colorization of the Hogwarts robes by pretty girls after a flattering wardrobe.

All of those would have been big events in other years.

It was, in all cases, measuring up to be quite a year, and yet that wasn't the whole of it. What made up this meeting's conversations was not so much the events, but the students. It seemed every teacher there had noticed a change.

Once Dumbledore had called the meeting to order and asked for input Sinistra was the first to stand and present her report, which had been discussed beforehand with the other staff and judged to be most important to all of their own relevant points.

"Headmaster, something remarkable has gone on with the students." She went on before he could interrupt and ask, with a twinkle, what she'd meant. "It seems almost every one of them has suddenly acquired an astonishing degree of understanding of my subject. At first I didn't know what to think of it. But through the week I've been checking more thoroughly and the problem just grows. I don't know what occurred to cause this, but every student from all seven years has suddenly acquired an almost perfect understanding of Astronomy. Pupils in older grade levels I knew by experience were deficient are suddenly better than I am, and our first years are no less proficient. There was hardly a question I could pose a random student wouldn't answer with the greatest of ease. At first I was certain they were cheating, because the only way I know to be that accurate is to be checking a star chart at the time you answer. But if they are cheating, it is universal, and I can't detect it. Nor do those pupils I am close to know what is going on. They say they just know the answers, and don't know how or why they know them. I have found the only exception is Slytherin, where no change seems to have occurred at all, with none of them any more ignorant or knowledgeable than before. Aside from them, I don't know what use I am teaching my subject."

"This has had an effect upon my course as well," Professor Vector stated, standing up just as Sinistra sat down. "Every student, even myself, has always struggled before with some of the star calculations that are required, because they have to be precise and they change constantly. And yet now, except for the Slytherins and myself, that suddenly seems to be the easiest part of Arithmancy! Three Houses are leaping ahead. I've awarded five hundred points this week alone, before I began to anticipate this and throttled back! This knowledge was completely unexpected. But at the rate Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Houses are progressing I'll have students venturing off into difficult areas of Arithmancy I am weak on before the year is halfway through! Already they have asked questions I have been more than one night up researching."

Dumbledore's face was slack in astonishment. There had been too many surprises this year and all too few of them had been good ones for him to anticipate much different from this.

The Ancient Runes professor got up to say mostly the same thing, to a lesser degree as the extent of tie-in was not as great. However, the teacher was followed by Trelawney, and even a blind person could tell she was upset, alternating angry and tearful as she explained what had been going on in her classroom.

Apparently, boiled down to its essentials and taken with a drop of cynicism to clear away the deliberate obfuscation, Trelawney was upset because all of her dodges and excuses about 'the stars' this, or 'the phases of the moon' that about why her predictions were less accurate than random guesswork were no longer being swallowed by the students at all, who were beginning to view her as the fraud she was. Sybil was gesticulating wildly about how their near-perfect understanding of Astronomy had robbed her of the methods she'd used to conceal her incompetence and keep her job all of these years.

The surprise was Flitwick, who came to stand on top of his seat so that everyone could see him above the shoulders of the other teachers, and bounced excitedly in his happiness. "It appears that this knowledge our students have gained is substantial enough that I have been able to start teaching certain advanced charms early - And they can handle them! I've already been doing this with the older years, spells so dependent on star formations that I don't think they've been formally taught for centuries! Yet our students are finding them easier than I am!"

As the excited professor resumed his seat, the groundskeeper stood up, an interesting contrast between the small and the large.

"You know, what the surprise is..." Hagrid drew himself to his feet, a laborious process. "I can tell what this is like from the student's end. All of er sudden, sometime early during the week, I could just tell what the phases of the moon were, an what stars were where, the time o day, and things like that. An it's weird, cause I just know em. Don't take no effort at all, either. It's like knowing where my fingers are, ye just do."

"On an interesting, yet I'm sure related, note," Professor Kettleburn was next. "Our students, again from the three Houses of Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff, have acquired a new and highly unusual affinity for unicorns. I don't know if this extends to other animals, as I only saw the difference during one lesson this week. But despite knowing some of the students for quite some time, every one of them had acquired, all at once, the manners of a master handler. I had young wizards riding those unicorns as mounts within minutes of seeing one for the first time, when that never happens and they usually prefer witches anyway."

The issue got discussed at length, but in the end remained a mystery.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Yes, they are starting to discover those changes wrought by Professor Malfoy on the student body, and as you see they aren't altogether happy with them. Of course, the biggest part of that is not knowing where they came from. 


	16. Chapter 16

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Sixteen

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Remus Lupin , werewolf, one time Marauder, and lonely graduate of Hogwarts came to a stop before the front gates, looking up to see the massive, familiar, and somewhat strange face of his alma matter.

This would be the first time he entered those halls without the familiar, comforting presence of his close friends. It was a singularly lonely thought that Sirius hadn't even contacted him after his release, but the werewolf supposed that he deserved that snub. He HAD thought Padfoot was as much a traitor as everyone had said he was, when it turned out to have been Wormtail all along.

The Marauders now seemed to have permanently disbanded. One dead, one traitor, two estranged and no longer in contact with each other... it was almost better when it had been one alive and two thought dead as heroes. The rejection had not been so sharp then, as it was to have another Marauder alive and free but not wanting to contact him.

Shaking himself out of such gloomy thoughts, the werewolf, who was no stranger to sorrow, levitated his bags and walked around the back toward Hagrid's Hut, not wanting to walk those hallowed halls within where so many good memories could easily haunt him.

Arriving at the familiar location of the old hut, Lupin found himself quite pleasantly surprised to find that old wooden structure had been replaced and upgraded. While not as enormous as Hogwarts, next to any other edifice the new stone cabin would have been huge, and it was equipped with attached stables, too.

Quite intrigued, the werewolf made his way to the door and found a party already in progress. Hagrid, who opened the door, greeted the returning graduate with a bigger smile than the former Marauder could ever recall seeing upon his face before.

"Remus Lupin! Good ta see ya! Come along in, we're making a regular party of it. Just gi me yer luggage an coat and go an get settled. We're having a load o guests today. Seems Dumbledore found it in him to invite a whole bunch o people this weekend, an we were just getting reacquainted."

"So, this is a weekend trip, then?" Lupin asked weakly, feeling sick as he'd thought he'd understood his stay was to be longer.

Surprisingly, Hagrid caught that and deflected the worry easily. "Fer them it is. You can stay as long as yer like. Our new Defense teacher has the greatest kids, and I sorta made a promise to them that ye'd help on their homework. Could go all year easy, at the rate she's racing through the curriculum. Got this nasty question on werewolves, fer one. But I've had bunches o students askin me fer help on things, an it came ta mind how I heard once some muggle schools had private tutors on staff. Now, I ain't made no arrangements, mind, but I was thinkin I could whisper a word or two in the Headmaster's ear, an maybe get you on in that capacity. Plenty o room in my cottage even iffn he don't, and I could use the company. Never mind how many kids I get through here nowadays, there's times when ya wanna speak to an adult. Ya know what I mean?"

"Yes. Yes, I do." Remus agreed with a genuine smile, handing over his bags.

Hagrid took them and leaned in for a wink. "Side's they're all girls, cept for Harry o course, an every so often I get a hankerin to hear a male voice, ya know? Can't rightly take em down ta the pub fer company, drink around the house, er talk about some things with so many skirts about. But ye can't watch yer manners all the time. Gotta let yer hair down every once in a while, er even just chat about sports or hunting, things a man is interested in."

"I know what you mean," the houseguest nodded.

"I'll take these up ter yer new room. You go in and get acquainted with Ms Malfoy. Y'know, she's an awful fine woman that one. Iffn I was in ma thirties instead o sixties I'd be thinkin o givin that ruffled skirt o hers a bit o chasin, if you know what I mean. Ain't no accountin fer how she's gone this far without someone slapping a ring on that hand o hers. Finest witch ever to pass through Hogwarts, cept Lily, an her daughter's cute as a button!"

Remus gave a glad laugh at that clumsy bit of matchmaking, so relieved to feel human and accepted again, even if he didn't dare get involved because of his curse. With a jaunty but insincere move toward the main floor, he waved, not really intending to make the attempt but ready to pretend to play along. "Well, I'd best be getting to know her then, shan't I?"

"That's the spirit." The giant vanished upstairs.

I O I O I

"Mister Lupin!" Nodoka looked up from her cards in gladness. "What a pleasant surprise. Rubeus said you might be coming up, but I didn't hear it was to be today! Welcome! We were just sitting down to a muggle game. Would you care to join us?"

Looking around the pleasantly decorated sitting room with plush upholstered hardwood furniture (spelled to adjust to the user's size or weight), Lupin recognized four of the nine Weasleys, a girl he didn't know in the robes of a seventh year student, and a woman he could vaguely recall only from a handful of meetings of the Order of the Phoenix.

"I'm not sure I've ever played any muggle games," the werewolf admitted.

"First time for everything," the Malfoy woman conjured him a chair as the others made space at the table for him between Bill Weasley and the woman he could vaguely recall from the Old Crowd. With a brilliant smile, the duchess gestured to the seat. "We'd love to have you join us. Minerva was going to, but got roped into running the school today. So instead of a 'welcome the new teachers' fete, this has turned into a small party with old friends."

"That's alright." Remus claimed his seat, grinning. "Oh, and for the sake of appearances, tell Hagrid I made a pass at you, would you? He was dropping hints that I ought to. I'll just let him know that you turned me down gently."

Everyone had a good laugh, except those who felt they ought to be shocked instead, and Bill asked, "So, what are the rules?"

"The game is called Scruples," Nodoka replied, summoning a glass of tea off a distant china tray over to Lupin's place, and he began to sip along with everyone else. "The rules are very simple. Everyone gets dealt five Dilemma Cards and one Reply Card. Each turn you choose one Dilemma and ask a person how they'd respond to that situation. You win the game by getting rid of all of your Dilemma Cards. You do this by correctly guessing how other players will answer those dilemmas. If you get the answer on your Reply Card, you draw a new reply but no new dilemmas. If you don't get the answer you are looking for you must draw a new reply and a new dilemma, discarding the old two in both cases. There are only three possible answers: Yes, No, or Depends. Everyone gets one try to eliminate a card by asking and guessing a response each turn. We go in clockwise order. Questions?"

There were none. Nodoka went first. "Molly, you find an expensive pen on a chair in a restaurant. You like the way it writes. Do you keep it?"

"What's a pen?" the pureblooded witch asked.

"A muggle quill that has a few months worth of ink built in," her husband supplied, looking excited.

A storm cloud passed over Molly's face, and she answered, "No. I'd return it to the desk for the owner to pick up."

Nodoka turned over her Reply Card, which read, "No." Then she explained, "You can ask anyone at this table any of the questions in your hand. The trick is to find someone who you think will respond the way you want. If I'd been looking for a 'Yes', I would have asked Arthur. And Molly, for your information, lost pens are almost never claimed by their owners, even if they are expensive. Mostly the hotel staff take them for their own."

"Next would be me," the pretty seventh-year student chirruped, looking at her cards. "Ah... Charlie! You just got married and learn that your new wife had an illegitimate child a few years ago. She now wants that child to join the family and live with you. Do you agree?"

The dragon keeper mulled it over for only a second. "Depends on the kid."

The seventh-year pouted, turning over her 'No' card. "Darn! I should have asked Mister Lupin."

"I would have said Yes," the werewolf told her with a grin.

"My turn I guess," the unidentified woman pondered for just a moment. "Nodoka, friends have set you up on a blind date. You spot the person from a distance and are shocked by his appearance. Do you go through with the date?"

"Yes, Arabella" the woman replied calmly. "There are other qualities than appearance, and my friends ought to know me well enough to choose carefully. So if he is lacking in one area he is likely that much stronger in others. Besides, I might not have seen the correct person. It would be awful to duck out on a date because of a mistaken guess."

Arabella Figg, Lupin now remembered her, tossed in her 'Depends' card and drew another reply and question while Nodoka calmly took a sip of her tea.

Remus realized he was up next and looked at his cards, quickly selecting a combination he was sure could get him down one card. "Molly, your husband gets a terrible haircut and asks you what you think. Are you honest?"

The fiery redhaired woman gave Arthur a stern yet loving glance, never wavering. "Yes. Even though I probably did it."

The married couple shared a gaze filled with memories while Remus discarded his 'Yes' card with a grin, beginning to enjoy himself.

Bill had already selected his question and victim. "Remus, you own an enchanted motorcycle and really enjoy riding it. But the Ministry has restricted them and asks you to get rid of it. Do you?"

"Enchanted? I thought this was a muggle game." Arabella inquired.

Bill shrugged, still holding the card. "It says expensive, but I thought it made more sense for one of us to put it this way. Also, it says 'your spouse thinks its unsafe' but he hasn't got a spouse just yet, so it's more realistic to change a few details."

Remus Lupin had gone from expansive and happy to shrunk in on himself and moody. "Yes. Yes, I do get rid of it."

Bill proudly tossed in his "yes' reply, only to have his father lean down and whisper into his ear. With a glance at what he'd done to Lupin, Bill suddenly felt sick. He hadn't known.

Arthur's turn came next. "Arabella, an elderly friend is repeating a story he recently told you. Do you stay quiet and listen?"

"You've been talking to Dumbledore again, haven't you?" the squib accused. "No, I'm tired of hearing about that scar of his that maps out the London underground. Considering how long he's lived he ought to be able to come up with better stories."

Arthur turned in his correct reply and the turn went to his wife, who asked, "Nymphadora, your in-laws are wealthy, but notorious tightwads. Your husband wants to give them an expensive gift. Do you agree to the purchase?"

The young girl bit her lip, looking confused. "Gosh, I dunno. I guess it depends on whether we really have it to spare, or if they'll be grateful and reciprocate, or a lot of things."

With a slight frown, Molly threw away her 'No' card and drew replacements. So it passed to Charlie. "Mom, your child is constantly pestering you to buy him a gift which is expensive and you can't truly afford. Do you buy it?"

She gave him a beady eye. "Depends on if he's done something to deserve it."

With a shrug, the boy tossed away his incorrect reply of 'No', and drew others.

Nodoka drew a card from her hand and secretly tapped the underside of the table with her wand. Everyone's faces went blank, and she showed the card to them. "Everyone, some person very close and important to you wants you to take the Dark Mark, assuring you that no one will ever know or see it, and saying that you won't have to do anything at all, that it's just to protect you, and other comforting things. Do you get it?"

The seven other people at the table with her all shook their heads and told her no. Nodoka drew another card to bring her count back up to what it should be and tapped the underside of the table again with her wand. All of them came back to themselves, not noticing a brief pause or the trance, and as if by accident each took another sip of their tea.

Nodoka then went on to take a turn they'd notice. "Dora, you wrote an ingenious essay but only got an Acceptable. A classmate rehashed the teacher's lecture and got Outstanding. Next time, do you parrot the professor?"

Nymphadora laughed. "How do you think I passed Potions class? Yes, of course! None of the teachers care if you're right so long as you're just repeating them. Snape thinks Kappas come from Mongolia and that trolls eat graphorns as part of their diet. If it isn't a potion he's amazingly dense, and heaven help you if you disagree with him. The more you try and prove a point the nastier he gets, especially if you're right."

Bill and Charlie were nodding. "He thinks he's at least twice as smart as he really is." Charlie confirmed.

Nymphadora was already peering at her cards, selecting one with a triumphant smile. "Oh, let's see. Nodoka! You're pregnant and you're not sure the child is your husband's. Are you honest with him?"

A slight smile graced the lady's lips as she sipped her tea for a moment before answering. "Yes, of course. I'd want his full support in tracking down the rapist who assaulted me. There is no other way I'd be in danger of infidelity."

The seventh year tossed in her 'Yes' card with a smile. All too soon the turn order came around to Nodoka once again, and once more she tapped the underside of the table with her wand, hypnotizing those who sat there and holding out her card. "Everyone, you are an Auror, and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement goes along with the Minister of Magic in ordering you to use excessive force to support an illegal decree. Would you obey?"

Once again a full circle of shaken heads and no answers was her response. Drawing a new card to replace the one they didn't know they'd answered, she ended the hypnotism and turned to her right. "Charlie, in order to marry someone you love you must join her religion. Do you do it?"

Just before Hagrid had come down from unpacking Remus' luggage into a bedroom, the game had almost come to a close, and Nodoka asked her last secret question to assure herself of seven good people's trustworthiness as they sat mesmerized. "Dumbledore comes to you and invites you to a ritual that will help destroy Voldemort, as well as give you a considerable addition to your natural level of magical power. He is sure it's safe, but the ritual is one that is forbidden and regarded as dark, even though I am the one performing it and can reasonably explain that it can be used for Light reasons. Do you go along?"

Seven nods came and Nodoka released the trance just as Hagrid came downstairs. She'd have liked to have gotten McGonagall involved in this, but had enough faith in the woman without it. Remus had been a surprise, but she hadn't very well been able to just leave him out of the game as an observer to notice her 'odd' turns using charmed cards.

Cups each loaded with a single drop of truth serum, including hers, had been a nice touch. One drop was not enough to get someone spilling their guts or embarrassingly truthful, yet it had added considerable weight to those answers. But as the game ended (Remus won, not having missed one guess the whole game) she gladly congratulated him and continued petting her kneazel, confirming once again that it had no complaints about anyone present.

I O I O I

Ranko skirted about the castle of Hogwarts wearing one of Kodachi's invisibility cloaks as they played a game of Hide and Seek over the towers and outside battlements, getting familiar with their environment while at the same time as practicing useful skills.

Genma was cursed and locked as an Invisible Yeti, after all. It sounded wise to those who knew they'd be fighting him to get used to hunting foes you couldn't see.

Besides, they'd agreed to have a Time Turner day just to themselves, martial artists only, relaxing in the company of fellow fugitives from Nerima after a stressful Saturday of having to socialize and make friends with folks who couldn't understand them, or their issues. While fun, very fun, to make new friends it had still been stressful to hide so much of themselves.

Although, if Dumbledore hadn't already been out of the castle, Professor Kettleburn probably would've gotten in trouble over taking such a large group to Hogsmead, and the social value of that little, unofficial trip had really gotten their group some friends among the normal students.

Really, Ranko and her friends had several advantages in the Hogwarts social scene, being all of them beautiful, effectively rich through allowances from Nodoka, athletic and charming, good cooks and a great deal more mature than they looked. They had every advantage they needed to soar among their 'peers'.

But it wasn't relaxing, not yet. So they were doing Saturday over, just themselves. A day to let their hair down and jump thirty feet at a bound.

Hearing Azusa coming up on her rooftop, as the skater wasn't nearly as silent as Ranko, this could have been a good opportunity to score a 'kill' with the paint balloon she had as her only armament, but a sneeze alerted her to the fact that Ukyo was also nearby, and this was a free-for-all tournament with only one balloon each per game. So Ranko swung down the building to a lower roof level, jimmied a window lock and slipped in.

Taking a quick glance around her, ignoring the polished instruments of gleaming gold and dark wood encrusted with keys of silver that were hanging off of sculpted racks upon the walls, Ranko heard a harp stop playing but otherwise devoted her attention to the window waiting for a good opportunity to slip out past invisible sparring partners, until a silvery lady ghost came into the chamber, looking around.

"I've been here over three hundred years," the poltergeist told the apparently empty room, "and I know every sound this tower has ever made. Footsteps are not among them, and I just heard a window unlatch before that. Who is here? I promise I won't hurt you. My name is Harmony Windsong, Professor of Music at Hogwarts. Please show yourself, I am ever so lonely."

Ranko had never been so good at dealing with emotionally distraught girls, and often just gave them what they wanted, a fact that Nabiki had frequently taken advantage of. After a moment of indecision, the redhaired girl doffed her cloak...

... only to get smacked in the side of the head by a paint filled water balloon.

"Ukyo!" She shouted at the open laughing in the window, and got gratified that the invisible girl got pelted herself from behind, which led to a swift splashing where the only girl in on the game of Hunt and Seek who wasn't splashed was Azusa.

The poltergeist was laughing merrily, a very sweet sound.

Purple paint dripping from her nose and fouling her hair, Ranko groused. "I need a bath."

Harmony checked her laughter, yet not her charming smile, as she gestured to some stairs. "Come this way. I have a very large tub. You can get cleaned while I make cookies. You can tell me all about your game, and perhaps I can interest you in playing some of mine."

So the beautiful poltergeist snared herself some students, as once she had them started on her art she proved so good a teacher they didn't want to quit. And it was nice for them to have a subject they weren't already years ahead of their classmates on.

"So, Ranko, tell me about your fellow Hufflepuffs." The silvery ghost ended the lesson with a somewhat desperate plea for gossip. She was only three hundred or so years out of date on local news, after all.

"I'm afraid I don't know much, except their names. And I only know that because of the 'Forget Me Not' Charm we all cast my first day."

The poltergeist's face went slightly paler in astonishment. "Are you sure? What about the other charms?"

"We didn't cast any other charms. Only the Forget Me Not." Ukyo told her.

"That's not right." Miss Harmony told them, feeling some distress over her old House. "That charm is only one out of a set. What kind of troubles could have beset our world that we could've forgotten the others?"

"Well, the wizarding world over here in Britain has had lots of wars and things. It seems every generation or so they've got another Dark Lord popping up." Ukyo mused.

"I don't think that could have done it. We've survived too many dark witches or wizards to count." The Lady Harmony shook her head thoughtfully, then perked right up. "Well, no help for it. I must teach them to you now. Have you all mastered the Forget Me Not?"

She was greeted by a chorus of "Yes, ma'ams."

"Very well then. As you know that establishes a base for friendships, knowing every other Hufflepuff's names and faces. But you must recall more, you simply must, if you are to go further and be true friends to each other. The second spell you must learn is the Remember When Charm, this enables all of you to recall each other's important dates: birthdate, first date, anniversaries and so on, and to help recall those experiences if you were a part of them. You simply can't comprehend how much it means to have a few hundred people know you that well, what a sense of community it builds. Hufflepuff owls are exhausted all the year long with dropping one another cards and small gifts. We got to where we had to have two owls each in order to stay in touch! You'll get simply a mountain of mail on your birthdays and wedding anniversaries, and never a week will go by when you aren't sending someone something. The only thing I can compare it to is having a thousand siblings. Well, I am getting ahead of myself. Names and faces is the first step, important dates the second. Are you all ready?"

Miss Harmony picked up a conductors wand to trace the wand movements, showed them the incantation, then paired them off to have them practice until they'd got it right. As they did, she glittered. "That charm is self-updating as important events occur and you get told, so it's good to stay in touch from time to time."

Kodachi smiled softly. "That would explain a legend I read on the wall of the Hufflepuff girls' bathroom: What do you call a dozen Hufflepuffs? Lonely."

"Precisely." Miss Harmony gave a firm nod. "You've got to have at least a hundred before we feel there are anywhere close to enough of us. Now on to the next charm. This I'd say is far more important than the last. Hufflepuff is the most variable House, having the widest variety simply because Helga took anyone the other Founders didn't want. Forging the strongest unity out of us requires some special steps, and some of those are spells. But rather than have anyone feel they are disappearing into a glob of humanity, Helga gave us a charm she entitled 'Touch of Friendship', and what it does is to give each person a sense of the other's personality, their likes and dislikes, or how the other will act, like old childhood friends or family often know without asking how each other will react before they do. This is not that strong, but makes an excellent base for building on later. And even among Puffs who may never see each other again it's good for predicting favorite colors or flavors so we can pick good gifts to send for birthdays or reunions. It's not always spot on, but most often close enough, and better the more time you spend together."

The lady ghost laughed. "It's impossible to fool one Hufflepuff by impersonating another. Why, we know so much about each other it's frightening to outsiders!"

"What's to prevent a Dark Lord from using that same spell to give him an advantage in predicting his enemies?" Kodachi asked.

"Two things." The glad ghost replied. "One is that it's effectiveness is based upon empathy - something no Dark Lord or Lady has. If you feel another's pain or are sensitive to their needs you simply can't bring yourself to make an effective villain, and the charm won't work any other way. Secondly, the charm is two-way, so not only would a potential dark lord not be getting any information because of his own blindness, but he'd be giving it to everyone he'd tried to spy on. To my knowledge, Hufflepuff has never had an effective Dark Lord in the thousand or so years of the House's history. Granted some rare few Puffs have gone bad, but they've all been taken down so quickly and easily they've not been an issue. I am told from this example, Dark Lords from the other Houses avoid these spells like a plague."

"Then that's how they probably got lost." Kodachi concluded. "Hogwarts has had more than one dark Headmaster during recent times, as well as other, incompetent sell-outs. The fact is any of them might have been willing to ban or otherwise restrict those spells out of common use, if nothing else to expand a Dark Lord's potential pool of recruits. From what I've heard it hasn't worked, but I could see several officials having tried. What is the next spell?"

"Constellation Hearts, so the benefit of the prior three charms apply to the family of Puffs, in a somewhat reduced degree. So your schoolmates' parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, children and siblings and so forth aren't total strangers to you. If you've lost these spells then I can't see the wizarding world having anything close to the unity it did in my day. Hufflepuffs were the heart and bones, the foundation off of which all of the rest hung suspended. Without us I can't imagine how anything works!"

Thinking wryly of her own experiences in magical Britain, Ranko grimaced. "It doesn't."

Shampoo giggled.

"What is it?" her friends asked.

Purple hair raised to reveal mischievous eyes. "If Hufflepuff is Heart, Ravenclaw must be Brain, and Gryffindor Muscles... so, is Slytherin colon?"

I O I O I

Percy Weasley, no longer prefect (but still hopeful, now that one of the Slytherin prefects was under question of being expelled for using a Cutting Curse on Professor Malfoy's prize magical bull for it's supposedly valuable blood, and destroying the Potions classroom and injuring that whole year of Slytherin students in the process), paused in the Slytherin common room, glancing at a notice pinned to the cork message board there.

It was about his mother's class, only the title "Housekeeping Magic" had been crossed out by some student and replaced by a scribbled name: "Be Your Own House Elf" only that name had later been altered, too, and now read simply "Become A House Elf." The listing of course materials and subjects taught had been altered as well, into a much snider and deprecating list. "How to be bought and sold" replaced Money Management and Thrifty Living. "Receive Abuse and Like It," was what replaced Conflict Resolution, and so on.

About the only aspect that had received any interest of a non-negative sort was the one on tailoring charms. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff girls of all years had been surging ahead of Slytherin in the 'look beautiful' contest that had unofficially sprung up over the topic of custom robes. That could surely change on the first official Hogsmead weekend where the Slytherins could recoup lost ground by stopping by specialty clothing stores. But not all Slytherins were rich, just most of them had a greater degree of privilege than normal. So a small handful of Slytherin girls had braved the scorn and ire of their housemates and signed that sheet, taking the elective. And for the most part, those who'd signed up were outcasts in their own House anyway.

Percy spent a moment thinking about taking his mother's class. But he already felt he knew enough about how to take care of himself anyway (never mind that he knew less than he thought he did, and having shunned it where possible he didn't know enough), and besides he'd already spent enough time alienating his new housemates anyway.

The former prefect walked away, heading out into the dungeons to go up to breakfast this fine Sunday Morning. He had only one more chance to get reSorted this evening, and did not want to blow it, but was also looking toward what might happen if he stayed Slytherin for a year. He'd have to make the best of it, and that meant not making enemies.

He'd already seen enough of how this House worked. Status was everything, and that came from wealth and blood purity to start with. Luckily, while short on one he had the other, springing from as fully an ancient pureblood line as any remaining.

He could play that up into an advantage. Personal power was a large measure of status also, and he knew his spells. Two out of three measures of power was as firm a standing as he'd need to get started. The wealth could and would come in time, he was sure of it.

I O I O I

Nodoka was talking to Remus Lupin as the two of them entered the main hall for breakfast and quite naturally sat together at the Gryffindor table, where her daughter and her friends were eating.

"While I appreciate the concern, Remus, I only have a short while before I have to retire to my tower. There is some rather heavy work that I'm supposed to be doing."

The werewolf reflexively cast a privacy charm around them so none of the students could overhear what they'd begun talking about. It was almost as if he was back during Marauding days discussing pranks, it came so easily. "I only want to know what you have planned for the students. I am supposed to help the little dears with their homework, after all."

Nodoka considered that, then decided to test his trustworthiness with a small secret so as to tell if later she might trust him with larger ones. "Well, last week Cologne and I captured an adult acromantula in the Forbidden Forest. I've got Imperius on it - which is only unforgivable if you cast it on humans, as I'm sure you know, and I was going to give the class a little scare with it. Overcoming the urge to panic is probably the single most important lesson in all of Defense, as I'm sure you're well aware. Besides, I expect none of my students will see the unbreakable glass wall between them and the giant spider when it charges right after I bring them out of a pensieve experience where we'll be studying those beasts."

Remus thoughtfully nodded. "It's a good one, but early classes will tell the later ones, even if you try to ensure they don't want to. You'd get better variety out of a good boggart or two. James and Sirius and I practiced using ones we found in odd corners of Hogwarts, and we had the highest practicals of our year. Nobody else even came close. In fact I don't think our record has been touched since."

Remus had to laugh. "It really helped that we had this friend who could become scared of anything. Peter..." here his good mood failed, but he proved what a good fellow he was by finishing that thought. "Pettigrew was a coward. So we'd all just tell him tales of some beast or other a few minutes before letting a boggart out, and made sure he was the closest one to it. That gave us some priceless practice as we all cast spells against any beast we could name, although we really had to study them so Peter knew what to be afraid of. We tried it out on less information and he got those monsters wrong, so the boggart was wrong as well. The things are based of fears, after all." Here he was back to chuckling. "James once got him petrified in fright of a muggle water balloon."

"It's a good idea. I think I can program the fear into a fairy or other something nearly mindless and use that for the Pettigrew effect." Nodoka mused, serving herself some bacon. "When I do, that should make our practical lessons every bit as valuable as pensieve aided theory. Thank you for the suggestion. Would you mind assisting me with the new process?"

Lupin grinned wolfishly. "I'd be delighted."

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Really, if you were going to do such a ritual you'd want to ensure that it wouldn't come back and bite you, or the people were unsafe. So how would YOU test them?

And I love thinking up little ways where Hufflepuff might even be the STRONGEST House! 


	17. Chapter 17

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Seventeen

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Due to a promise they had made to Miss Harmony, Ranko and her friends had spent the previous evening teaching those extra friendship charms to their classmates. This included Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and getting all three of them together to cast those special charms not just within those Houses, but between them, so every Ravenclaw knew each and every Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and vice versa.

It was her idea to get wizarding unity back together, jump-starting the whole thing with extra members. Ravenclaw had even caught the spirit and had offered access to their private library and some studying charms they knew for faster reading and better comprehension and memory, that in their bailiwick proved just as useful as Hufflepuff's bonds of friendship.

Gryffindor had been embarrassed to admit they had no such special charms of their own, but Professors Malfoy and Cologne (who'd insisted on being involved in this charm-fest), had suggested that maybe they'd once had them, then, like some of Hufflepuff's spells, the charms had been lost.

This set all three allied Houses on a research kick to rediscover them.

With her mom busy and being vastly ahead of the rest of the school on her classwork (even despite taking more classes than any of them, with electives from the regular staff PLUS being taught by centaurs and merfolk) Ranko led her whole advanced study group back to meet Miss Harmony, who was very glad to see them.

Interestingly enough, they did not start off on music. They'd arrived conversing about a stray comment made by Professor Kettleburn, their Care of Magical Creatures instructor, who'd mentioned all of those fairies that now infested the Forbidden Forest, and how he wouldn't mind having them around if they did something useful, like pick up muggle garbage and dispose of litter.

That had struck the kids as a grand concept and Hermione was leading them all in vocalizing thoughts about what to study so they might research a way to do that. Miss Harmony had joined this discussion so expertly that she'd stunned them all, and the beautiful poltergeist had to explain.

"Miss Harmony, I thought you were a Music Professor. How do you know so much about magical creatures?"

The pretty professor smiled softly in silver. "Like all of you I had to take the full course of study before I became a teacher. So I had to pass my own Magical Creatures class, and I admit that I did rather remarkably well. But I don't think anyone alive can realize how boring it is to be a ghost, so I've long since begun floating through walls to find my way into those sealed sections that were close enough the wards blended, so I can reach, and a part of our old Magical Creatures lab is one of them."

Seeing she had an audience, Miss Harmony expounded. "Professor Granchmoor, our Care of Magical Creatures Dean three hundred years ago, was a certifiable genius, and his department's teaching team had several more as well. They'd had a contest, interrupted by their deaths mere days before they were to declare the victor. The goal of that contest was to take the minds of the magical community off how much they were losing by presenting them with something new and useful. Cromwell heard of this event and had them all killed at once, destroying the reassurance value it had been aimed for and getting active resistance to his edicts for the first time among wizards. But the subject of Granchmoor's contest was who among his staff could create the best new servant race for magical Britain, in addition to the House Elf, which we already had."

Seeing her audience was now captivated, Miss Harmony permitted herself a twinkle. It had been ages since she'd given a lecture, and now an off-subject one as well! "As you may or may not be aware, House Elves were created from wild stock to perfectly fit the roles of maids in the old aristocratic households; the traditional female servant's job, and containing a wealth of specialties. Combined responsibilities included cooking, cleaning and laundry, with a side order of hairdressing and fussing over noble ladies. Good maids are supposed to go about their duties almost invisibly, both unseen and unheard, but appear nearly instantly when called for. About the only part of a maid's position they were not perfectly suited for is that no one in his right mind wanted to have an affair with one. And that," she said primly, "was all to the better."

Turning a sly smile upon her pupils, the silvery ghost gave a sidelong glance, artfully pulling them in to the mystery. "As good as they are, House Elves set a near-impossible standard to beat. Servants in general are supposed to be tireless workers and all of that. Humility was another quality they got graded on, as well as when seen they had to fit their station, and for some ranks of servants that meant wearing appropriate livery. Also, an ideal servant would cost the household practically nothing for their services. So the staff had their work cut out for them, as they couldn't simply copy House Elves, but couldn't afford a major article of spellwork, either. Their new servants must breed true, to provide a labor pool."

Miss Harmony swept her skirts out artfully and pretended to sit upon a chair, teasing them into attention with the motion and her expressive face. "The dean's personal project was a magnificent conversion of gnomes from pests to useful farmers and landscapers, tending to lawns and food plants, soil and herbs almost as well as House Elves are suited to indoor work. His improved model, newly dubbed Garden Gnomes, were aimed to be the perfect gardeners, carefully tending and shaping plants for great health, maximum productivity, and of course immaculate loveliness and ravishing taste. The Dean proved in tests they would fully control weeds and bugs, promote order and beauty throughout their owner's domains, and remain unobtrusive at all times while providing fresh produce to the household daily, along with newly cut flowers and other decorations as seasonal or appropriate. They were, in every way, a magnificent success and a tribute to Granchmoor's genius."

The Music Professor twinkled. "His Garden Gnomes would almost surely have won the prize, but there was some stiff competition. His second in command had originally wanted to work with Goblins, but that race had been getting restless so he wasn't able to acquire permission to procure any. So he worked with Erklings instead. Now, as new students you may or may not known that an Erkling is an elvish creature standing roughly three feet high, originating in the Black Forest of Germany. Their high-pitched laugh is particularly entrancing to children, which the Erklings will attempt to lure away from their guardians and eat. This clever professor modified them into stable hands and grooms, altering their laugh to grant influence over animals instead of people so they could the more easily train and handle horses or other large beasts. This man achieved excellent results, but not quite a perfect success, his initial product having a few weak points and flaws. So while still quite usable, they were rendered less than an ideal servant. However, Dean Granchmoor was not a jealous man and his aim was to comfort the wizarding community, not to earn any personal glory. So he'd helped his second on his project, and between them achieved a process of expanding Erkling powers and channeling their minds to make the breed wonderful animal husbandmen of an absolute first rate sort, caring for a wide range from horses and hounds through sheep, pigs, cows and goats, chickens and eventually some of the magical beasts. The Stable Erks would comb, groom and shoe where necessary, clean stalls, gather eggs, butcher, breed and nursemaid their beasts. A certain portion of their best could even train circus animals in their tricks, getting bears and elephants to balance on balls and the like."

"Between a Garden Gnome and a Stable Erk, a bit of land and something to put on it, and it sounds like you'd never go hungry." Ukyo observed, whistling.

"It would be hard to be so impoverished those servants could not feed you, yes." Miss Harmony agreed with a brilliant smile. "However, only one teacher came close to those first two projects in his success. Many others made attempts. Trolls were tried as huntsmen with some flawed results, nothing extraordinarily good and many drawbacks. Their duties were to track and manage wild animal populations, protect from poachers, provide wild game for the table, and accompany the master on hunting trips to drive animals out of concealment to where they could be shot for sport. Of these, they were good at none of them, being too dim witted and slow for adequate service. So poor it made me wonder what they eat in the wild until I learned they were omnivores and scavengers that would as soon eat a branch or rotting carcass as fresh meat, even though they preferred it. On the plus side their violence was somewhat reduced from wild mountain trolls, and they were somewhat controllable."

The poltergeist giggled, hiding that in her hand. "Red Caps were also tried with no greater success than trolls were. As you must know, Red Caps are dwarvish creatures that dwell in holes on battlefields where human blood has been spilled, and they like nothing better than to sneak up behind and bludgeon people to death. An attempt was made by one teacher to turn those into guards, since they can be very easily controlled by certain charms and hexes. He made good progress but their violent tendencies and desire to hurt humans remained, so they couldn't be trusted to protect anything, only to destroy. And that same ease a wizard using charms and hexes found controlling a Red Cap to make it guard his home also made it useless against another wizard wanting to break in, using those same charms and hexes to get past it.

"Another flawed project was to make Leprechaun butlers, harnessing their ability to make a temporary form of gold to create tableware and dishes instead of coins. They could be any style or make, in theory, and vanish after an hour so you didn't have to wash them. The idea had great potential, but never truly made any ground. An attempt to make Pixies into good nurses similarly had great room for success, but never realized it, and Fairies were also tried with very limited results. But that's enough said about the failed projects. The last of those entries that was a great success was turning common ghouls into footmen."

Seeing their blank expressions, Miss Harmony backed up to do some explanation. "I see none of you was raised by one of the great houses. Just as maids are the traditional female role for servants, footmen are the traditional male servants of the old aristocratic households. Unlike maids, they are to be seen regularly by the family and guests so their appearance matters a great deal. How impressive they look is a mark of status, improving or shaming their employer's social station. The footmen's primary duties are to carry what needs to be carried, set places around the table, bring serving dishes from the kitchen to the dining room and back again for every course of each meal, answer bells, run errands, assist persons of quality into and out of their carriages, and to be available at all times for running and fetching, or to perform special services like preparing the house for parties. Proper footmen are the hands and feet of an aristocratic household. They are to wake and dress the male members of the family (all but the Head of the Household who is to be attended by the butler). Their side duties include a bit of protection, and for this they are occasionally armed. But to turn anything as ugly and truculent as a ghoul into a proper footman was quite an ambitious bit of magic, made even more amazing in that it worked very well indeed.

"The man created a spell giving a ghoul ability to alter its outward appearance into just about any costume, from armor to splendid livery or variations on those themes. That settled the question of appearance, whatever household they worked for, and whatever uniform was set, they could match that and often even improve upon it. Then he made them willing and obedient footmen. His only fault was they couldn't breed those traits right, and he was very confident that he could have that problem fixed by the due date. Unfortunately, he died and that never got completed."

"Wow." Hermione breathed.

"I've heard of chameleon ghouls before this," Ginny offered in excitement. "And my family has a ghoul in our attic. It's not obedient, but it seems to like people, in a standoffish way."

"A few of that professor's ghouls did escape, I believe, disguised as Cromwell's soldiers using their chameleon powers," Miss Harmony agreed. "And from what you say they did not entirely lack changes to their breeding traits, as the ghouls I once knew were fiendish flesh renders who liked humans not at all, except as meat. But what other experimental servants were not destroyed got sealed away inside those labs where the department had been working on them after those professors got destroyed. Fortunately for me, they kept copious notes. So I was able to read up on them. Also, the Dean kept track of everyone's progress and kept his own separate notes on how he could improve their processes, if he had time to assist them. And he stayed around as a ghost for two hundred or so years teaching me what he knew and putting the finishing touches on his Garden Gnomes, Stable Erks, and on the Foot Ghouls that remained. He polished them all to perfection, also I've been playing with those theories on other subjects that did survive and got incarcerated, and after many generations I believe I've improved on them greatly.

"I'm not the magical creature genius Professor Granchmoor was, and yet I haven't had to be. I've had three hundred years to improve upon and perfect what he gave his team only two years to create. And I know everything he taught me in those two centuries he had before he crossed over." The Music Professor giggled once more. "I even fixed the problems with Troll huntsmen and Red Cap guards by pairing them together. I've made both far more civil and obedient than before, then placed the still rather violent Red Caps as leaders of small squads of Trolls. A Red Cap is quite clever, but brutal. However once trained and modified right, it uses both to make up for the deficiency in thinking that Trolls still have. Once a Red Cap thinks of plans it can get the attention of its Trolls by smacking them about. It's too small and weak to truly hurt the Trolls it commands, who heal quickly anyway, but it does get the Trolls doing what it wants rather quickly. So it thinks and they obey, which solves a problem of the Red Caps because Trolls are NOT easily kept at bay with spells!

"I've domesticated the Trolls a bit further so if their Red Cap leader gets out of hand they'll catch him and sit on him until it calms down. It's not perfect, but they can all recognize 'good human' versus 'bad human', and so make adequate guards for protection, and huntsmen for managing forests both. The Red Cap has an outlet for its remaining brutality in slaughtering the wild animals the huntsmen are supposed to provide for the household's dinner table. It calms them down greatly to shed blood, even if I've made them dispatch their prey quickly and humanely. It disgusts me, but they make eager and skilled butchers, and never cease plotting how they are going to defend their owner's territory from attackers of any shape or size. They've become really quite paranoid and territorial, I'm afraid. But loyal, at any rate."

The students were silent for a long moment, before Padma asked, "Miss Harmony, do you know any special charms that Gryffindor House might have once had? They've lost them."

I O I O I

Responding to a taunt by their brother Percy (that they weren't Gryffindor any more than he was), backed up by dares of their classmates, on this, the last day of reSorting to take place this year, Fred and George Weasley came forward to try the Hat on, sitting back to back on that stool with wide grins on their faces and the Hat resting atop both of their heads.

"Hmm, brilliant minds." The Sorting Hat said aloud. "Loyalty also. A tough one, as you about as brave as it's possible to get. I guess there is no choice but to make you: Triple House Students! Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff!"

Percy went off into a quiet corner and refused to cry, but the tears and sobs would not obey him any more than the Sorting Hat did.

McGonagall quietly winced that she'd have to reschedule another year's worth of classes to accommodate this change.

I O I O I

Nodoka was working hard all day in her tower, preparing for the ritual that was to take place that evening. First, she got her notes and redrew the circles and signs she'd used before as both an attempt to keep her promise and as a security measure.

Because the object to be destroyed was very specific. It had to be, in order to arm those wards and runes correctly, and this one was created and calculated to work off destroying a snake of a certain species and age, named Nagini.

Using it for anything else could be a disaster.

After dinner, which she had to leave to attend, Nodoka came back to her work room in the company of Molly Weasley and her husband Arthur, along with their eldest two children. In her opinion Dumbledore was mad to have made them all dine at the head table where they could all be seen and speculated upon; but that was his choice, not hers.

Double and triple checking her work both by the set of notes she'd carried with her and the secret set she'd hidden inside of a stuffed goose in another room, she found there'd been changes made, runes switched around and symbols altered or destroyed. Impossible to tell who'd done it in a room crackling so thickly with magic, but she chalked it up to enemy action and went on, this time double and triple checking the wards outside of her room.

During this time she kept up a lively conversation and got to know the two oldest Weasley boys enough through chatter and a plethora of scanning devices and spells that Nodoka felt comfortable with assisting them with this rather hefty power boost.

At this point Dumbledore came in leading Nymphadora Tonks and Arabella Figg. "Ah! I see you are almost ready, Professor Malfoy. I was wondering if you could accommodate a last minute change. Professor McGonagall has elected not to join us, so I will be taking her place."

The others didn't even see her move. One moment the Defense teacher was bending over rechecking and carefully charming down her runes so they'd not be disturbed. The next a flash of silver flew through the air and Dumbledore had a bowie knife slammed up to the hilt through his left shoulder, several inches sticking out his back. If he hadn't moved from a good set of reflexes it would've hit him in the heart.

The Weasleys all drew wands on the woman, startled and terrified that she'd do such a thing to so trusted a wizard, but then the wounded wizard's face and image blurred, replaced by those of Snape wearing a set of Dumbledore's robes and clutching a desperately injured shoulder with a look of terror on his face.

Nodoka summoned her knife back to her hands, ignoring the startled family as she stared down her nemesis. "Tell Dumbledore to stop fooling around and come down with Minerva - and Snivellus, if you want to live, never interrupt one of my rituals again."

The Potions Master scrambled out of her room.

In truth, she believed he was not so stupid as to have played around with her symbol set if he was going to try and participate. So Dumbledore had to have leaked what was going to happen in her little tower room that night, almost certainly to Snape himself, who probably let that information roll on to other ears who, it seems, decided to wage a bit of war against the Light during this time of peace by messing up her ritual and destroying any participants.

Considering all angles, her brother was a likely candidate, but by no means the only Death Eater Snape might've talked to who then decided that a little murder was in order. Costing the Light seven people in a botched ritual would not only deny them considerable power, but they could then blame her for doing it and send her to Azkaban prison for a Dementor's Kiss, framed for multiple murder.

Curse Albus and his wagging tongue! Did he not see that anything he told Snape was no longer a secret? This was dangerous enough to do without hostile interference.

"How did you do that?" Young Nymphadora asked, startled beyond belief.

Rising after having completely rechecked everything and sealed it down, Nodoka smiled at her effective niece - she was almost sisters with her mother, after all. "Turn him back? Very simple, really, I put a few drops of Aging Potion on the blade, enough to overcome the duration of Polyjuice. He's now a few years older, and let's hope wiser, but that's probably too much to ask."

"How did you know it was him?" Molly leaned close, after dropping her wand arm.

"Severus Snape has sworn an Unbreakable Vow to marry me, break my will, make a loyal Death Eater out of me, and breed servants for the Dark Lord using my body. If that were you instead of me, wouldn't you take precautions to always know where he is? Forgive me for not telling you specifics, but one of you would probably tell Albus, and anything Albus knows he tends to tell Snape!"

In truth, she had put a charm on his wand when it was under Ministry control so she could always tell where it was. And wizards carried their wands with them everywhere. She'd put a few charms on his wand, actually. That was just one of them. She'd also hung a Foe Glass under a table where she could glance at it easily while she was bent over working on runes. She stood up, brushing locks of hair out from her eyes. "That gives the Dark side a terrible advantage, as Snape tells virtually everything he hears to the rest of the Death Eaters. Albus cost many of his followers their lives doing that, trusting an enemy with important secrets. It almost cost you yours, as these symbols had been tampered with while I was away at dinner. Now unless you can think of another reason for that to happen, consider that only Albus knew this was going on. I only told him and thereafter kept my mouth shut. He invited the rest of you, so for Snape to know he had to have told him. And Snape would not have tampered with these runes if he wanted to try and participate, getting the power this offered. So he must have told someone else, who decided to murder you all by sabotaging the ritual. I've fixed the damage now, but you all would have died if the alterations had gone undetected."

A whiff of cold air metaphorically blew through the room as the Weasley family had to contemplate for the first time that Albus Dumbledore was not exactly the most secure person in the wizarding world. They'd not believe it, not yet anyway, but the seeds got planted for later growth. Albus would have to add fuel to that fire to warm them, however.

It was both amazing and dismaying to her how much trust that man had, and how little he deserved it. Not that he was evil, just careless and too trusting of some wrong people, too certain of his own, often questionable, judgment. Nodoka considered herself very wise for not having joined him during the last war.

After about twenty minutes of silent thought, Albus arrived trailing Minerva McGonagall, and Nodoka went about checking everyone for Polyjuice or spells.

"Nodoka, I..." Dumbledore began.

"I'm not interested!" The Defense teacher snapped at him. "I'm very angry at you for having told Snape and tried to get him in on this. Obviously he told someone else, and they tried to get creative with my runes after you INSISTED I go to dinner with the rest of the school! It has taken me almost another hour to remove that few minutes worth of sabotage. One of these runes, a very critical one, was even hexed to switch to a massively harmful one the moment this circle got activated. Now will you shut that filthy hole and check over my work to see if only my magical signature remains? If there are any other traps I've missed, now is the time to fix it, before we get started on the dangerous part. After you've done that why don't you think about how your utter lack of concern for secrecy almost cost these friends of yours their lives! AGAIN!! You certainly killed enough of your followers during the last war by sacrificing them through similar acts of stupidity. One could think you are almost as bad as Voldemort, with lives only tools and playthings for you to throw away at will!"

Nodoka checked her anger and stopped speaking, while a shamefaced Dumbledore checked her circle for unwanted magical signatures. The rest of those in that room saw his shame and noted it, experiencing a few moments in fear that he really had been so careless as to put them in danger of their lives to further some manipulative plan.

"Really, Albus!" Minerva huffed in outrage. "How do you expect anyone to trust you when you are wedded so firmly to the Dark through that enemy spy you insist on trusting?"

The Weasleys just stood stunned at these goings-on, while Nymphadora scowled at the Headmaster, and joined her mother's best friend for a whispered conversation. Arabella said nothing, but watched everything.

"You have found and removed everything." The Headmaster stood up. "Nodoka, I..."

"Shut up!" she snapped at him angrily. "I said before, I'm not interested in whatever you have to say to excuse this reprehensible act! You know, you've certainly been told enough times you ought to know, how much of a danger that man is to me. Yet you are so willing to give him advantages over me..." she shook her head sorrowfully. "Albus Dumbledore, I cannot be your ally. You constantly betray my best interests, and the whole side of Light, to that monster you stubbornly insist on trusting despite every evidence of his horrible treason and dark nature! If you cannot display even the level of sense God gave to rodents about detecting danger then I'd far rather fight you than be your ally. It seems so much safer to oppose you and your self-destructive instincts than rely on you. Now get out! I've changed my mind about letting you watch this. I'll still go through with augmenting your people because I've agreed to and they seem nice despite the horrible lack of judgment on their part they show by being your friends."

"I shall remain." Dumbledore stood tall and stern.

"Not while I live." Nodoka unwrapped her bundle and assumed fast draw position.

Startled by this, and more than a bit offended while still somewhat fearful, Dumbledore gave a sorrowful nod and took a step toward the door before stopping. Her thumb touched her blade enough to pre-draw it an inch, ready to clear the sheath for a lighting slash, but the Headmaster smiled wanly. "I have yet to give you the cup, Nodoka. So unless you'd like to perform this ceremony without it..?"

"Put it on the table by the door, then leave." She told him.

"Ah. Yes. I suppose that I must at that." Dumbledore took a packet out of the sleeve of his robes and placed it on the table, then removed the golden cup and put it atop that.

"What is the package?" Nodoka did not mince words or move from her ready position.

"Charlie Weasley was good enough to bring a collection of dragon claws with him. I'd asked for him to do so because of my wish to provide arms to my friends. They are not the equal of your silver weapons, yet they should serve more than adequately. I spent the morning transfiguring the raw claws into a knife for each of them."

Nodoka blinked. "A knife? One each? Are you sure, Albus? This circle is outfitted to handle as many as three per person."

"What I have selected should be more than enough, Nodoka. Nor should we have too many of these lying about. One can only use one weapon at a time, and the rest might fall into the wrong hands."

As she shook her head disbelievingly, she said, "As if you of all people have a right to be concerned about that. You've provided so much aid and help to your enemy that it is safer to oppose you than be your friend. But no matter, get out and we'll get on to business. If you ever decide to treat your allies better than your enemies, come talk. Other than that, stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

Albus left with a pained look to his features.

I O I O I

After Albus had left, Nodoka stood taller and sighed mournfully. "Excuse me," she told the assembled participants, summoned the cup to her hand, then stepped into a wardrobe and closed the door behind her. Spinning her Time Turner back twelve hours, the duchess left the now empty tower basement and went up two stories to a completely different room in her private quarters, where she cleared the floor and rewrote all of her symbols and signs anew, no longer capable of trusting Albus to have checked properly - or to have refrained from tampering with the circle on his own, adding tracers or other monitoring spells so he'd always know where the subjects were or what they were up to, or something.

Besides, the lady just felt better doing everything over again once that one circle had been gotten to and tampered with. She summoned an owl and used that to send off a letter, then ate in her room, having cast sealing charms and silencing wards around herself so as not to alert her past self to her presence as the earlier version of Nodoka came into the tower basement and began to work on the magical circle that was going to get sabotaged.

Safeguarding her new circle against any and all tampering, Nodoka took the opportunity to get to work on the cup, going up her tower into a highly secret and secure vault and fetching out one of her newly hatched basilisks.

Nagini had been an immature basilisk, locked in adolescence before its gaze developed by having a chunk of Voldemort's soul lodged in it. She felt certain the Dark Wanker had been planning to have close, intimate control of a fully dangerous, completely developed basilisk, and freezing the reptile in an immature state had been an unwelcome and unforeseen side effect of turning the animal into a horcrux.

Even great wizards can make mistakes, especially in areas poorly researched, like horcrux creation and basilisk soul implantation. But, since a horcrux and split-souled technique was a method of reaching a form of immortality, having it freeze the age of whatever living beings were involved made sense in a way. That was what it was supposed to do to the casting wizard, and what use would an animal horcrux be if it died of old age on you?

If it was supposed to be immortality it was supposed to last, not expire in less years than the average human is supposed to; as virtually all normal animals would. So naturally it had to freeze a living horcrux in age. But that was one of those 'of course!' moments that made sense after you'd run into the fact, but was hard to predict beforehand.

And Tom Riddle had still been quite young when he'd made Nagini. She'd also been one of his first horcruxes, so a minor misstep even in so gifted a student was understandable.

Taking this new, finger-long hatchling to her Potions lab, Nodoka fed it a carefully measured dose of Aging Potion, transforming that hatchling into a snake the same size and age Nagini had been before its death. One reason this wasn't done normally was that it had a tendency of stunting the magical growth of the animal so affected, and it did not teach it anything at all, so its mind was still that of the animal of the age it was without the potion. So it was spoiled as both a guardian pet and a source of magic ingredients.

However, the duchess didn't want anything of this basilisk. The only enchanting she wanted to do came from using the spare backwash of ritually slaying a portion of Voldemort's soul. The basilisk itself was incidental and secondary. It hardly mattered at all, save for one crucial thing, and that was on the calculation side of the current matter.

Stunning the nearly mindless adolescent serpent, Nodoka lay it down in a ring, put the cup in the center of that, and drew a quick magic circle around them both. Before she closed the new ring, she pointed her wand at the mentally handicapped basilisk and told it, "Your name is Nagini," granting it the dead serpent's name for extra symbolic potency.

It took her an hour of gentle magical probing, but she located and isolated the soul fragment within the very highly magical cup. The isolation part was easy, Hufflepuff's spells had been blended masterfully, and Voldemort's soul did not fit into that weave. It had no rightful place in there, so once it was located the rest went quickly. After that it was a fairly simple, or at least straightforward, task to perform a switching spell to transfer Voldemort's essence out of the cup and into the new Nagini.

Why? Simple: to save on redoing all of her advanced arithmancy work redrawing the circle. Her runes were all keyed to astrological signs that had not gone out of phase, but the rest of her laborious work had been calculated to affect a snake of the same size and age and type as Nagini, and known by that name.

Also, Moldy's soul knew what places it called 'home' and Nagini was one of those. It did not matter much if this was a new Nagini or the old one, so long as there were not two at once. As far as the soul fragment was concerned, she'd only moved it from one proper and fitting residence to another, which is why she had been able to do that to it so easily.

Best of all, Hufflepuff's cup was now out of any danger. That was the real point of this, not to save on work she could have redone had she felt so inclined, but to get that priceless artifact out of harm's way. Horcruxes had to be destroyed, after all. And that almost always had to involve actual, physical damage of a non-reversible sort. Considering that this was Moldy who'd been doing this, he'd almost certainly warded his horcruxes against those few means to destroy the fragment of soul without permanently damaging the host object, and put in a few traps to severely harm a person trying any of the less-than-total destruction methods.

Total destruction was far safer to employ in eliminating horcruxes, and now the cup was free of any risk from that, while she could destroy this immature basilisk without a quibble from her conscience. It was not priceless and irreplaceable, or even particularly valuable. Illegal to the point of absurdity, but not valuable. Any wizard with a chicken egg, a toad, and twenty eight days could make one with a minimum of fuss.

Hanging the still-stunned serpent from a hook in her ceiling, she put a large cauldron under it and Brain Burned the thing a good dozen times. The rest of her detailed precautions from the earlier ritual would also be the same.

That was another thing. You could not Brain Burn a cup, only a living thing. So it had to be done this way if she wanted to remove any mental aspects or danger of contamination as she had done for her own group. Otherwise she would run risks that were unthinkable. She did not want to make seven clones of Voldemort. One Dark Moron was quite enough.

During the time her older self had left to go to dinner, she peeked invisibly down the stairs to find her brother, Lucius Malfoy, step in using a dark object to breach her wards on the tower door, go right to where her original circle was and do several things, including erasing lines she'd made of special, magical compounds, and redrawing them with ordinary chalk.

Seeing him do this she raised an eyebrow. She'd not caught that one. Neither had Albus; and it would have caused a dramatic, even catastrophic failure as those lines could not have conducted the energies as they ought to have done. She watched Lucius leave, seeing him donning an invisibility cloak again through a thin crack as the door slammed shut behind him.

At the same time, Cologne arrived in the second story tower window behind her, long blue hair flowing out behind her young, curvaceous body. "Daughter, why do you suddenly need dragon claws and fangs? You could have told me yesterday when I left to get hides if it was important and you knew you were going to need them. It must be something sudden or you wouldn't have posted me a letter to Rumania."

"How did your trip go?" Nodoka inquired, dodging the question for now.

"Great," the 300 year old teenager seated herself comfortably on the windowsill. "I got what I wanted for our present projects, and furthermore convinced the ranch manager to agree to double production starting this year by telling him you wanted your furniture all upholstered in dragonhide. He thinks that's frivolous, of course, and he's right. But he knows you've got the money for it; and told me he hopes that you start a trend."

"I may have to, if I'm to jump-start production up to the levels we'll need. So they are going to raise twice as many eggs? How much am I buying?"

The blue-haired amazon shrugged, flicking aside her locks. "It will be years before they are old enough to harvest, dear. And by that time I fully expect they'll be preempted for robes. If not, I know my tribe would be interested in those extra hides. You're in no danger of an all leather living room."

"I wouldn't mind if I were. Money is no problem, as you well know. As for why I need those fangs and claws, I discovered another horcrux, only Dumbledore followed me and got to it first. Since I wasn't going to fight him for it I agreed to do an energy ritual for people of his choosing, so long as I got to approve the selection."

"Clever." The matriarch said in approving tones. "That way you at least know who they are, and have some control over who gets selected."

"Control that I needed, as his first two selections were Snape and Filch. I don't think I could have dissuaded him, either, except he let slip that he had no one else who could draw an appropriate echo circle. So he needed me enough that I was able to veto his worst choices."

"Good plan, so why fangs and claws?" The matriarch began to brush out her hair, enjoying the feel of it in the breeze.

"Dumbledore got Charlie Weasley to bring him claws and provided a knife for each of his people he'd made out of them. However, he also tried to get Snape into this ritual under Polyjuice - after I'd very specifically warned him I'd be checking! I'm sorry, but he's done so many cheats and tricks that I just can't trust him in the least. So I'm not going to use his knives for fear of some spell or other he'd built in to those blanks to give him an advantage in controlling his people. That is just the sort of thing I've already caught him doing!"

Popping off her perch, Cologne rolled up her sleeves. "What sort of weapons do you want them to have?"

"Swords, because I don't know how much, if any, training they'll be able to have and that's one weapon useful at any skill level. A novice picking it up for the first time knowing only that it is sharp can still be dangerous to an unarmed man, and that just improves as the user gets more skilled and better at its art."

Cologne nodded silently, drawing out seven fangs and beginning to shape them magically into prime blades. "Next?"

"Something that Dead Munchies won't be expecting that also doesn't require much training, a fanged frisbee."

"Good choice. And the last?"

"Dumbledore only wanted them to have one weapon each. I figure if we make shrinking swords that can look like knives we're clear there, and I can hold off on giving the frisbees to them until they've come around a bit. Because to give them to them right away runs the risk of them turning over any extras to Albus, and he's bungled so many things so far I don't trust him not to do something stupid with them, like destroy them or turn them over to Snape for safekeeping, where they'll wind up in Death Eater hands. So do you mind if we use the extra capacity to empower an extra set of weapons for our children?"

"Not at all, I think that's an excellent and highly appropriate idea. So far I approve of all your thinking on this, so tell me your thoughts: What more do you think our children need?"

"At first I was thinking a bow, but if we apply that same sort of shaping magic we're going to use on these swords to those unfinished spears of ours, we can have those be both."

"An excellent idea, daughter. When foes find out you are using missile weapons on them the first instinct of a fighter is to charge. Going from holding a bow to a spear you could catch that charge unexpectedly to get your point across."

"Precisely. Also, there is less to store, and both are very long objects awkward to carry in hidden space. This makes that problem less by carrying one fewer. Yet there was still the question of what to carry as our fourth weapon. I'd thought of another fanged frisbee, then I recalled that Hibiki boy my daughter told me about, and a weapon he'd once used before he'd lost the dexterity of his hands in becoming a pig-man."

"An umbrella?"

"Precisely. I'm almost done with Hagrid's new wand, and I can just make these the same way, out of the same base materials, and we have both a weapon and backup wand in the same perfectly innocuous object you can carry about anywhere."

"I have a few suggestions to improve your idea, but those can wait until later. From the sound of it, your argument with Dumbledore downstairs is winding to a close and you should truly be getting ready for your ceremony."

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

The saddest thing about this story is that so many go to lengths to tell me it was already posted elsewhere.

Don't you think I know that?

I am reposting these parts here for the simple reason that it's necessary to put up the beginning parts over again before covering any of the new material I have saved up, as I WON'T be doing any of that on the original posting site!

But I get so few reviews on this, and so much on my others, that it's hard to remember to do any posting on this one. I mean to, I just forget. And I deeply suspect that until I get all the previous material covered and start into the original stuff, I will continue to have that problem.


	18. Chapter 18

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Eighteen

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Nodoka Malfoy went downstairs to meet Arthur, Molly, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Nymphadora Tonks and Arabella Figg as the participants and beneficiaries of this second attempt had just finished watching her go into the wardrobe and close the door.

Seeing as how they were all magical, having her come downstairs without explanation just after she had locked herself in a closet did not merit comment. A bit of puzzlement perhaps, but no great astonishment.

Nodoka then led the group upstairs to where her second magic circle was prepared, along with those weapons Cologne had prepared for her before disappearing out the window, told them this was her backup circle and she trusted it more as this one had not been found by their saboteur, then proceeded to enhance them all.

The actual ritual went off without a hitch. McGonagall served as filter to the rest, taking the risk on herself so they could be safe. But the ceremony went by unimpeded by problems or further mishap.

When the power ceremony was over, Nodoka excused her guests back to their rooms, all of them being too tired to chat as their magical resources were all in a jumble - just like hers had been a trifle less than a week ago when she'd done this. They'd recover quickly, and be far more powerful for this.

She'd save on supplying them with Voldemort's skills until she was absolutely, 100% certain that could be done without danger or disadvantage. So little time had passed since her group had done it that she really could not be sure it had been managed perfectly. All of the time she was learning things with a feeling like realizing where she had left her car keys, but the jury was not yet in over whether or not she'd gotten by unscathed in personality.

The evidence was compelling that she and her group were all fine, but Nodoka felt a little justified in being just a touch paranoid over that matter. The worst that had occurred to any of them sleeping with kneazels and unicorns was that some of their petting muscles were getting sore from stroking the over attentive, affection seeking animals. And Fawkes was now actively seeking them out at mealtimes to receive stroking and treats.

So Nodoka closed the door on the last of the now-tired participants, grabbed up her cloak, and went out another way, slipping out a secret exit to stride off Hogwarts grounds and apparate away to a big home in a small village that was the former residence of the late Hepsibah Smith. The night was still young, and though a trifle late for a social call, Nodoka still knocked and was answered by a House Elf who took her name and showed her into a side room to wait.

It was not long before the lady of the house, bearing a startling resemblance to Hepsibah, came down to see her, a look of concern visible on her face as she shook her guest's hand. "Professor, has something happened to my grandson?"

Shooting a quick glance into her memory, Nodoka recalled a Zacharias Smith was one of the younger students in Hufflepuff, and she blessed herself for taking Aphrodite's advice and followed along with her daughter and her friends using that 'Forget Me Not' charm and others of that sort along with all of Ranko's three Houses, so she knew them and they knew her, until everyone in them could recall each other as easily as the members of Hufflepuff did.

Of course, Hufflepuff had other advantages in the loyalty department. As Ranko and some others were discovering, they were a finely tuned machine when it came to identifying and eliminating social problems among their members, and they did it in such a nice way that no one seemed to mind as they rewrote parts of their behavior.

"Zacharias is fine. No troubles of any kind to report to you, Mrs. Smith." Nodoka smiled warmly, before a look of concern crossed her features. "No, I am afraid that I come on a different matter."

"Oh?" The Smith family matriarch raised both eyebrows. If not a family emergency then why the lateness of this call? And why in person? Those went unsaid, but expressly stated in her body language.

By way of answer, Nodoka unwrapped the cup she held in her hands, revealing the golden vessel to the startled eyes of the old woman.

"Perhaps you had best come in to sit down," the kindly old woman offered, directing her in to a sitting room, where they both settled themselves. Once they were seated, she asked, "Is that what I think it is?"

By way of answer, Ranko's mother simply handed over the artifact. The grandmother of Zacharias tapped it with a willow wand, and the small, golden vessel went from the size of an inconspicuous teacup to a full blown chalice, large enough that, were it filled, it would take two hands to lift. Its full size revealed a splendor absent from the smaller form, being made of hammered gold and chased with elaborate silver filigree. Twelve great, perfect gems, each a different color and the size of the last joint on a man's thumb, were set into platinum mounts to form a band around the brim, inlaid with fine runes. Overall, the craftsmanship was clearly the work of a goldsmith of extraordinary talent, and was obviously magical in that it radiated a very pleasant golden glow that seemed to warm the very heart when looked upon. The artistry was superb, whereas the smaller form had been plain.

"By your look of surprise I see that you did not know of this facet of its powers. I find myself reassured almost as much by your expression as by my test this is not a forgery. Helga put many enchantments into her cup. We know of quite a few of them, some from heritage, others we rediscovered in our search for it, useful for proving beyond a doubt its authenticity if it were ever returned to us. Tell me, where did you find it?" The large woman waved her House Elf closer and selected from a tray filled with herbs and beakers, a red vial. Pouring its contents into the chalice, the name of the potion came bubbling up to be written on the surface of the liquid, correctly identified along with a list of major ingredients.

Nodoka was clearly astonished, yet recovered herself quickly and with a breath was again composed. "I was buying a property yesterday, and this was discovered hidden in a place within the walls. I do not know precisely where, as I did not discover it, the Headmaster did. This evening was the first time he released it to me, and as soon as I had completed my duties I brought it here to you."

The round woman had poured out the potion back into its vial without a funnel, and magically did not spill a drop. Filling the chalice with another liquid she dipped or wafted through the smoke several herbs and roots, and tests proved them to be supercharged after the effect of the exposure. Absorbed now in her experiments, the descendant of Hufflepuff many times removed filled the cup with water and touched several combinations of softly glowing gems with her wand, instantly producing potions of a handful of varieties. For one of those tests an old House Elf was assisted by a much younger one to come forward, as the elderly elf had a badly crooked leg from an accident many years ago and could not walk unaided. A special combination of stones adjusted another dose of pure water into a glowing potion, which the lady of the house poured over the elf's crippled limb, instantly restoring the appendage to whole and hearty in a flash of golden light.

At last satisfied, the grandmother sat back comfortably in her wide, overstuffed chair, face suffused with gladness. "Excellent! This is, without a doubt, the correct cup. Only Hufflepuff could have faked her own vessel so well, so it is certainly hers. Excuse me for becoming so entranced in testing it; some of these powers had not been used in hundreds of years. My mother certainly never knew half of them. She'd just found it a pretty bauble, a jewel for her collection. Supposedly, Hufflepuff's cup has even greater wonders, but those can only be unlocked properly using a matching medallion that has been lost since right before the first crusade. Probably in the tomb of a thief somewhere in the deserts of Arabia, which brings me to this question: Do you know who stole it? As I'm sure you must be aware, the reward we offered was a million galleons for return of this cup, and a hundred thousand for the name of the thief. We'll get you the money this evening, if you like."

Nodoka shook her head, saying, "keep your money. I have no use for more. However, I do know the name of the person who stole it. He was shown this cup by Hepsibah mere days before her death, and his name is Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort."

Hepsibah's daughter dropped the prized artifact out of astonishment, her face slack and pale with fear. Picking it hastily back up, she turned and tried to make light of it with a false smile. "How did you..."

"Find out?" Ranko's mother shrugged apologetically. "The evidence was undeniable. Do you know what a horcrux is? Voldemort sealed a portion of his soul into that cup to gain immortality."

This time the daughter of Hepsibah actually flung the priceless artifact away from her in fear and made no move to pick it up from where it had rolled across the carpet under a table.

Minutes later, Nodoka was walking back to Hogwarts, a soft smile on her face and the cup unexpectedly back in her pocket. She'd offered to pay a million galleons for it, and the lady had at first refused to take a knut for it. Not even an explanation that Voldemort's essence was completely removed had dissuaded her, though it had convinced the woman to accept the million galleons in its stead. And Nodoka had a wonderfully crinkly certificate of complete ownership, and compiled notes for all of the cup's known powers. She'd already registered the former with Gringotts and the Department of Magical Antiquities, and intended to study the latter this evening (after making and hiding a few copies).

Looking up in the sky and recalling the hour, Nodoka corrected that to 'next morning.'

I O I O I

The darkest school of magic in Europe was located deep in the rugged mountains in south-western Bulgaria amidst deep gorges and high waterfalls. The narrow valley was protected so that it could not be seen from the air, and students had a special way of entering.

Unlike Hogwarts, where pupils took a magical train to a magical village and then walked or rode the rest of the way, pupils of Durmstrang started out by getting themselves to a high altitude magical village, flooing or flying or portkeying into an old Bulgarian magical town located in a cleft of those mountains. If those students came from muggle families, teachers or other staff went to fetch them. The Bulgarian Ministry of Magic loaned out several of their clerks and officers each year to act as escorts for that purpose.

Once at the village, they were let down a mine shaft in rickety old iron buckets, and there in those deep pits, put on board ghostly boats that would sail them through miles of twisted, flooded caves and passages. Those routes changed every year to prevent the students from memorizing them, and magic was used to alter distinctive features and open or close portals or cave mouths so old paths could not be followed even if you recalled them.

This caution was a good part of the reason Durmstrang had not been burned in Napoleon's wars or later muggle conflicts.

Draco found the whole thing terribly exciting, dark and mysterious; just the way he liked it. Also, he knew that he'd be learning the Dark Arts, and not just defense against them. That was far superior, in his eye, as he'd always intended to use them. Also, the school year was shorter! Classes started at Durmstrang one week later, and ended a week earlier as well.

About the only thing that could have made this better for Draco was if Crabbe and Goyle had been able to come along, but their fathers had mysteriously listened to Dumbledore's convincing and they would instead be going to Beauxbatons.

Boarding the ghost ship that would take him to his new school, young pureblood Draco Malfoy, garbed in the most expensive cut of cloth allowed for his new uniform, eagerly sought out people like him to form his new power base out of.

Unfortunately for him, Draco entered into this attempt with some false assumptions. There was a world of difference between having strong reputation and teacher support, plus bodyguards in the forms of Crabbe and Goyle, and NOT having that support. The same tactics that could have been used successfully in the one situation wouldn't work in the other.

Draco Malfoy was a pureblood and heir to one of the most powerful magical families in all of the British Isles. He was, by natural consequence, a spoiled whiner, bully, and accustomed to his father's influence and money protecting him by mere mention; and consequently the boy getting his own way in virtually all circumstances he'd been in so far.

Those were tools that momma's boy had come to rely on, perhaps dangerously.

A name will get you only so far, and only among those who know that name and revere it, or fear it. And Lucius Malfoy's power, while great in Britain, did not extend far outside of it. As wizards tend to be an insular lot, not concerned with others' problems, family reputation at home did not spread so far as to be useful to a young pureblood here.

As Draco entered the ghost ship, full of dark witches and wizards, he tried his usual power games, and ignorantly ran into the fact that Durmstrang was already well supplied with dark alliances and power structures of every kind. None of those tricks he was trying were new here. Also, he did not have the patronage of Snape making things easier on him, promoting and sheltering him while he built up his own following, or his father's hand on the leash of the local Minister of Magic.

No, other people held all of those advantages here. They had them and used them.

I O I O I

Draco was not smart.

It was one thing to make yourself a bully in a school that only had a few of them, and where the teachers turned a blind eye. It was easy in that case to become not only a bully but a ringleader of bullies. However, it's an entirely different matter to enter a school full of bullies. You've got to fight your way to the top if you want to get there, and that means taking crap as well as giving it, proving you're tougher than the other thugs and so able to lead them.

Draco was not good or elegant about taking anything he didn't like.

The worst thing you can say to a bully when he is picking on you is "wait til my daddy hears about this" and there was nothing Draco was more likely to say. He said it early and often.

That sort of behavior attracts abuse.

Worse, his whole attitude of privilege was the wrong tack to take in a school full of thugs. The young boy from a wealthy pureblooded family created enemies when and where he did not need them, often deliberately rubbed others the wrong way and, more importantly for this situation, relied upon help from others whose support he did not currently have.

It was a school that taught the Dark Arts, and consequently had some very not-nice people attending. Nothing Draco had was new to them in the advantage department. He wasn't the only one going there who had influential or powerful relatives, or political connections, or was ruthless about using them. The big difference was young Malfoy's resources were far away while those others' were closer to home.

Yes, Lucius virtually ruled Britain's magical government through bribes and favors. But the Bulgarian head honchos, pulling strings behind the scenes, were hard for him to affect.

They'd also done preparatory work Draco's father had not done, given next to no warning before the change of schools. So what favors and favorable arrangements could be had had all been locked onto previously by others. This could have been compensated for if the Malfoys had time to adjust in advance, if nothing else to teach young Draco how to alter his approach to be more appropriate to his new circumstances.

But they hadn't done that either. A week was not much time for something so major.

An unsupported attack is a good way to lose troops in a war. Sadly for Draco, he was the only sacrificial peon he had. No saves or do-overs, no adults under obligation to his parents to pull his bacon out of the fire every time he messed up.

So all it took was once. One big screw-up to mess up his schooling for a year.

The boy's proud ancestors would've screamed aloud at how quickly the young scion got himself into trouble. He knew how to find the centers of power, going right to the right group at the right place on those boats to find those pupils most advanced in power politics and suitably influential at their school. The trouble came from his expecting them to automatically greet him as their natural leader.

They didn't.

Draco compounded this error by tongue-lashing them as if they were incompetent inferiors for not having instantly recognized and bowed to his innate superiority. Obviously they were supposed to kowtow to make amends for this grievous error, so he could graciously forgive them, after suitably punishing them for the snub. Then he could assume his rightful post of command.

This was his second mistake.

His third and final error, causing a meltdown of his future and burning all possible hope of his success or happiness at Durmstrang was not to immediately backpedal and begin sucking up the moment they proved superior in the smackdown department, accepting a position as subordinate and follower so he could later work up in the ranks.

Instead he vowed revenge and that 'His father would be hearing about this and he'd make them suffer.'

Now it is one thing to be a fool, another to be a rich or powerful fool, and still another to be a whiny little crybaby always promising that his daddy would come get you if you upset him. That type of behavior might as well have been hanging a sign around poor Draco's neck saying "Hurt me, I'm a wimp."

Attracted by the smell of blood, sharks began to close in around the blond pureblood.

I O I O I

Things did not get off to a good start with Draco at Durmstrang.

Never before had young Draco Malfoy been without a power base to back his demands. Always before he'd had powerful resources at his beck and call, willing to get him anything he wanted. He'd been trained to expect that and rely on it. So even now, when it wasn't available, he still tried to act as though that was how things worked.

It wasn't turning out well for him.

If he'd had Crabbe and Goyle flanking him that would've been something. Even a little bit of authority could be played into a much more powerful hand. Draco was good at that. But the other boys had gone off to that French school because Dumbledore had succeeded in one of his schemes for once, and convinced their parents to send them off to Beauxbatons.

Draco'd always been the one with the big club, backed by the heavy guns, and riding high on the support and admiration of others. Frankly, Draco didn't know how to deal with life any other way. People were supposed to kowtow to him. His threats and demands ought to spark obedience, even fear, among his so-called peers because every one of them should naturally understand that he was highest among equals, the best of the purebloods who were themselves the best of the world.

Things hadn't gone that way for him.

All of the expectations he'd grown up with had gone sour on him. Draco was no stranger to powergames, but before it had always been someone in his family running them. No, he'd known there'd be hazing, even looked forward to it. But he'd assumed that it went without saying he'd be immune to it and get to inflict it on the other kids his age, alongside of the older students who'd naturally accept his exempt status and treat him as an equal.

No, he was not prepared to have a corn cob shoved up his butt and told to scratch around and squawk like a chicken for the amusement of the older boys.

Or else he'd get turned into a chicken.

Unfortunately, it went even worse for him because of his failure to make friends and allies on the boats to the school. Worse yet, he'd made enemies, powerful ones, of the worst kind to have - those who had favors owed by staff members, influential friends, and advantages they could call on from outsiders who had a bearing on how the school got run.

Exactly the sort of person Draco had expected to be himself.

Students at (particularly European) boarding schools have a rich tradition of being cruel to their younger classmates. In fact, there's an interesting bit of word history mixed up in there. The term 'faggot' was once a simple measurement, it indicated a unit of firewood once it had been split and cut into an appropriate shape and size for burning. It was no more offensive than 'bucket' or 'gallon'. However, in those old boarding schools students all did chores, and naturally the most junior got most of the worst jobs, including hauling firewood. Then, just as a man who worked a mill became known as a miller, or a man who worked a smithy became known as a smith, the contagious nature of words kicked in and the junior members of those boarding schools (all of which were boys, as back in those days girls were viewed as not worth educating) became known by the nickname 'faggots' because they carried firewood to all of the many fires burning throughout those large school buildings.

This could have been no more deranged or improper than calling a man who pulls an oar an oarsman if not for one thing. Schools were single gender in those days, and lacking any form of female companionship the older boys would routinely rape the young ones, as just one more part of the general hazing and abuse. So, to be a 'faggot', formerly a measurement of firewood, then an appellation tied to those who carried firewood, became instead those who were too weak to resist and so got it up the butt when older boys were getting lonely. Only later did it come to mean those who indulged in such activities by preference. A term those it applied to would later discard as being far too offensive and repulsive to utter in public - a reputation it did not acquire from having had anything to do with firewood.

And really, is it so hard to picture naughty little schoolboys using a term that meant wood in giggles about their perverted little games?

However, Draco was learning a whole new lesson about being too weak to resist.

In the eyes of the older years he'd earned a dose of punishment just by coming to school. It was a standard entry fee paid by nearly everyone, that they made sure to get back with interest when it was their turn as they returned as older students. In Draco's case he'd gotten elected for another whole dose just because he'd failed to make any friends yet. That made him the odd boy out and it was ritual to haze them much harder so the other boys wouldn't feel so bad about taking their share. After all, they hadn't had it as bad as HIM (whomever that 'him' happened to be during their year).

The odd boy out got to grouse and lick his own injuries, having had it worse than anyone. But since he was the odd boy out, who cared what he felt anyway?

This was also how they chose who got to start out the school year on the bottom of the pecking order. The odd one out, Draco in this case, started out with no friends and a worse dose of hazing than anyone, so he became the guy to pick on until he'd done something to escape that status. This often happened in one of two ways: acquiring a protector, or having some other kid do something dumb or unlucky enough to replace him at the bottom, where anyone could pick on him (including especially the one whom he'd replaced, who'd formerly been the one to receive all of the abuse and often had much to do to relieve his frustration).

Thus, those unhappy traditions got carried on for yet another year.

Draco's hazing this year was to be particularly bad, worse even than most 'lowest boy on the totem pole' hazings because he'd done worse than make no friends, he already had powerful enemies who numbered among the crueler sorts of upperclassmen in the school, as they were the types who had influence and so knew they could get away with anything.

And so they did, with Draco as their target.

The blond boy was not physically powerful, nor was he all that strong magically despite having trained a bit at home. At least, he wasn't anything by comparison to boys four and five years older than him with the commensurate extra growth and instruction. Nor did the Dark Arts offer him any advantage, as everyone around there knew them.

In short, he was too weak to resist whatever they wanted to do to him.

Naturally, he objected. Humility was not in his makeup. His nature was such that he couldn't just play along or put up with it to get it over with and minimize the painful experience, then get even another night. Or even slink away to avoid being noticed and hope to avoid the treatment entirely. No, he had to resist, be the first to stand up and refuse, and that got him more punishment as the older boys simply could not tolerate dissension, or else ANY first year could feel he had a right to avoid the hazings if he wanted to - and they'd all want to.

After having been careless enough to walk into the situation in the first place, objecting was no way out. So Draco earned yet more ill treatment from the older boys and an opportunity to lead off the festivities by personally volunteering, via his objections, to be the example and first target.

Lest anyone misunderstand, he stood up not out of bravery but out of ambition. You can't climb the social ladder at the same time as you are stuck on the bottom, and getting labeled as the year's first whipping boy was something you had to be paroled out of by someone else taking your place. It wasn't something you could outlive on your own. And despite whatever you did in your future, classmates could always recall you as the boy who clucked like a chicken with a corn cob sticking out of his derriere. That was not an image a future Dark Lord or high ranking lieutenant to a Dark Lord could afford.

Being seriously humiliated as a year's favorite victim was poison to your image. It burned your reputation from whatever height down to prey animal and victim - which was a large part of why ambitious older students did it to the new arrivals, to secure their own place as leaders of the pack, eliminating competition.

If Draco had any kind of power base he probably could've refused and made it stick. But he didn't, and he foolishly behaved as if he did with nothing to back it up.

The Japanese have an expression: "The nail that sticks up gets pounded down."

Even though he'd meant it in all seriousness, his power play was hollow. So when other students called his bluff there was nothing there to back it up but empty claims, so they had to treat Draco with extra harshness to punish his challenge of the older student's power. He objected, fought, and made loud noises, guaranteeing that he was more interesting to haze than the wiser first years who shut up and let him get all of the attention. The other new kids got off easy because so much torment had to be refocused on Draco. All of the while Draco was screaming that his father would make them all sorry they'd done this to him, removing all doubt that he was a spoiled little momma's boy and helpless to defend himself.

In short, he made himself the perfect victim.

Instead of being exempt, he got to play Weird Object Insertion games and told to swallow a live flobberworm whole. As part of the general history of cruelty passed down from one generation of male Durmstrang students to the next, Draco got dosed with a bit of Polyjuice armed with hair stolen from someone's sister and got to learn a new lesson about being on the receiving end of rape, with the girl's brother getting to fulfill a weird fantasy by going first.

Then the year's chosen victim had to kick things up a notch by calling a powerful ring leader a mudblood. That did not go over well with anyone. Others of the pureblood camp had to actively disown Draco lest they be pulled into a conflict they didn't want with the powerful muggleborn ringleader who also happened to be among the most ruthless thugs at school.

Draco really would've loved Hogwarts, a fabled promised land wherein he was the ONLY bully.

I O I O I

It was a timid first-year boy who approached Professor Malfoy in the hall. He'd taken her class a few times, and she knew his name, only the boy had seen in her a little more interest in being nice and befriending the students than any other teacher there, and that's why he approached her.

It was, sadly, a routine matter. A Slytherin in the upper ages had hazed him. Snape would have sneered, said something insulting, and taken points off of the victim. McGonagall would ultimately have done nothing because the Headmaster had insisted she stand aside from Snape's little depredations, and that snake shielded his whole House from her. But Nodoka had shown a penchant for standing up for students against that hated Professor, so that's why this boy crossed half the school to find her and ask for justice.

What he got exceeded his wildest expectations.

Nodoka had seen to the boy's injury, and gotten righteously angry. That curse had not been just a prank, but a spell illegal to use under any circumstances. To find such was being flung around in a school, of all places, was abominable!

But then, for ten years Professor Snape had been teaching his House to be horrible, evil bastards. Whatever the virtues or merits of ambition, Slytherin had earned an evil reputation with Severus at their head, because he'd done his level best to encourage evil behavior in all of them, turning a blind eye to their foul deeds and punishing those who questioned his cronies, while protecting all his snakes from the entirely correct and appropriate punishments of others that justice would normally demand in recompense for their foul crimes.

Snape's reign as Head of House had produced some nasty little bastards. Not all, by no means all, of Slytherin was like that; but those who were held all of the influence and power in the House under Snape's supporting authority. And being ambitious, most of that House followed those among them who had influence and power.

Curing the first year and sending him on his way, Nodoka called for some Auror support, then went to Minerva's office to ask the Deputy Headmistress permission. Then, flanked by a dozen (fully cured) veterans of Magical Law Enforcement, the Defense teacher had stormed into the Slytherin dorm just after curfew.

Raising her wand in the chamber, she sounded a loud BANG! off from the tip and told everyone there to assemble in their common room. Then she stood before the gathered Slytherin throng.

"This evening an illegal spell was used to cause a first year Hufflepuff's face to melt. It was dripping off the front of his skull by the time I stopped its progress. No other witch or wizard I know of could have cured him of the permanent disfigurement that spell had caused. Now, as the student was struck from behind he didn't know who did it, only that he was called a 'filthy mudblood' as it happened; so I want you to tell me: Who was it?"

The gathered throng stood quiet, a few feet shuffling among the younger years, and proud and arrogant looks among the older, as if to ask 'who was she to question Slytherins?'

They were long accustomed to Snape's handling of things, where he would (upon having learned of such an offense) quickly blame the victim, filling the other staff member's ears with made up tales of how he'd observed that student doing something dangerous, or being careless, possibly with a potion known to explode and melt things. But he would invariably claim that even after correction this pupil went on to do it wrong anyway, so it was all the poor boy's own fault. It would be a very carefully crafted story armed with specific, believable details and made to sound very convincing in spite of being patently false. And the victim's protests would sound fake and weak by comparison, the denials of a child who didn't want to get blamed for his own mistake and so was trying to pin the blame on any handy target. Snape would stay on hand long enough to make sure they'd sound like that, even if he had to voice his own interpretation of them for it to do so, making sure to cast doubt and spin on everything until it suited his story.

He was expert on this, having done it countless times and gotten better with practice over more than a decade.

Then, in the privacy of their dorm, he would give a sharp reminder to his House to be more careful about illegal spells that leave evidence, when it was possible to get caught. This would be followed by a short reminder of those illegal spells that left no traces.

The poor subject of this abuse would normally have had his face treated at St. Mungo's, where they'd transfigure him a new one that could be adequate looking, but never quite feel right, and would have to be regularly adjusted as that student grew older until he'd reached adult size. And, moreover, he'd have to listen to endless lectures and reminders about being more careful in the future, when nothing in this whole incident had been his fault - except to be so trusting as to turn his back on a Slytherin.

If Snape had been the first to hear of this, that's the response he would've taken. It was, by now, a very familiar pattern to him, and he was quite comfortable in its proper execution.

Instead, Nodoka was dealing with this situation, and she gave a fierce nod. "Very well then, I've summoned Ministry Aurors to look into the matter, as this goes beyond mere school rules into an outright criminal act." She stood aside and let the professionals take over the investigation.

The very first thing they did was to count roll call, to see how many Slytherin students were missing. To no one's surprise, several were. Those names got taken down as out of dorm after curfew, and recorded for further investigation.

The aurors then split into two teams. One fanned out into the Slytherin dorm and began to search all of the rooms, both for students and for any traces of Dark Arts materials or hidden caches of illegal substances. These were expert at their jobs, and they did a thorough scan of it, turning up a veritable mountain of things against the law or restricted at Hogwarts (since they were looking for anything hidden anyway), and a few students who'd hidden from the general roll call for whatever reasons got unearthed and taken out to join the rest.

The other group took the assembled Slytherins and confiscated their wands, then searched their bodies with Dark Arts Detectors of various kinds while other Aurors stepped aside to cast spells revealing the last few incantations each wand had been used to perform. Any Dark spells, and there were a lot of them for so small a group, got the wands tagged and their owners taken aside for questioning. Some outright illegal spells got revealed and the lucky owners of THOSE wands got put under arrest and manacled for taking off to Ministry holding cells for questioning and later trial.

It was when the Aurors had progressed halfway through the group, not tolerating any resistance, that the idea began to sink in to kids in general that these guys were serious!

As the investigations continued, Nodoka used her position as teacher to personally and privately examine each Slytherin's wand as the Aurors got done with them. As she did so she added two subtle, hard to detect or remove, but very powerful curses. The first would cause that wand to explode, taking the casting hand with it, if that wand was ever used to cast one of the Unforgivable Curses. And the second cast a powerful Rotting Curse upon the stump if the first spell was ever triggered.

If it ever came down to Aurors being granted permission to cast the Unforgivables again, and there were Slytherin graduates among that flock, she could remove the curses for them. Otherwise, Voldemort was going to get a nasty surprise when he returned to find his most willing recruits had to get new wands before they could do battle on his side - because his forces depended upon the advantages the Unforgivables gave them.

Plus, there was also the fact that he'd lose a few followers finding out they needed new wands. First they'd lose their wand hand, then the Rotting Curse could cost them their lives if not cured quickly enough, and none of her studies showed that moldy warts was hot on Healing skills, or that he had any talented ones among his followers. The mindset of helping others needed to become a Healer was the exact opposite of what Death Eaters had to have to join that side. And Rotting Curses cast on fresh wounds were not easy to cure.

Ministry Aurors, on the other hand, could and would use their access to St. Mungo's to cure theirs should any accidents appear among their numbers, while Nodoka could easily rebuild their hands. Although the lady made a note to remind herself to teach her daughter and her friends how to do that in her absence, just in case Nodoka herself became a casualty of war.

It had happened to better witches then her, she knew. So it was best to be prepared. You never knew, it could even save her own life.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Draco is another one of those characters that seem to get away with anything, all of the time. Then more than half of fanfiction tries to redeem him. How can you redeem someone who never stopped liking what he was doing, or had to pay the cost? Why would he even want to be redeemed?


	19. Chapter 19

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Nineteen

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Seventeen of the older Slytherin students had been arrested and were now awaiting trial, a sizable fraction of the upper three years. Others, the majority of that House, had fines being leveled against them for ownership of forbidden or controlled magical objects, and parents were being notified - which was actually shocking some families, just not the hereditary dark ones. A few Slytherin students were even being withdrawn from school by shocked guardians who'd had no idea their child was being trained in murder and indoctrinated as a terrorist.

Snape had gone very intensely berserk in that cold rage way of his over the whole matter.

Beauxbatons was going to have a bumper crop of new transfers this year, as that institution was widely viewed as the Lightest of magical academies, too busy being artsy and having fun to go dark, a reputation they maintained by instantly expelling anyone caught performing dark magic or using dark arts artifacts. And the threat of expulsion, with its follow-up 'no magic forever' clause, was enough to get all but the stupidest and most stubborn students from touching it while at that school, learning to do without. And habits ingrained in youth often last a lifetime.

Naturally, all of Hogwarts was abuzz with talk about the event.

Nodoka felt quite pleased with herself. She had put the fear of Law and Order into a group Snape had trained to think were above the law by selectively punishing their victims while at the same time shielding the perpetrators, so long as those guilty were in Slytherin. But she had put their feelings of invincibility and invulnerability to rest.

Naturally, Dumbledore got mad about it.

Unfortunately for him, he chose to confront her about this in the Great Hall at mealtime, since she wouldn't come to his office when summoned. Casting a privacy charm around the Head Table, he began to whisper. "Professor Malfoy, you have exceeded your authority and transgressed school regulations, putting a feeling of dread into our students over their safety and poisoning their minds into a fear of law enforcement..."

He didn't even see her moving. One moment he was admonishing her. The next she was standing over him. Albus was bruised from striking the floor stones and dazed, with a pain in his jaw telling him that it was broken, probably from the blow that lifted him across the table and felled him on the other side.

Some enterprising student chose that time to cancel the privacy charm.

Nodoka was practically streaming fire with angry breaths. "You twit! You Moron! Are you a complete and utter JACKASS!?! Has it never occurred to you that by applying a little bit of discipline now, teaching them there are consequences for certain actions, that it might avoid our aurors having to KILL THEM LATER!!?" She finished in a half screech, before realizing what she had done and composing herself, instantly becoming a refined and elegant Japanese woman who could not even conceive of shrieking or violence.

"Headmaster, I find your selective view on discipline deplorable, and regrettably I must attribute your lax standards and abominable favoritism toward a certain House to your idiotic and misguided friendship with the Death Eater Severus Snape. Had any other students been caught in open violations of wizarding law your response would have been to throw them to the wolves, letting them bear the full brunt of punishments for their actions. Instead, with these pampered, evil fools, your first move is to protect them. You have lost any respect I once had for you, or for your judgment."

Dumbledore could not reply due to the interference of a broken jaw, which was unfortunate for him, as Luna snapped a picture to be in the next, special edition of the Quibbler, with the earlier paragraph as caption.

Her next statement would make up the bulk of the article.

"Dumbledore, of all of the groups that could be made to feel that rules did not apply to them, Slytherin House is the most dangerous by far. Pamper Gryffindors and the worst that will happen is they'll get into a little vigilante justice. Make Hufflepuffs feel above the law and they'll perhaps break a few import regulations or small rules in looking out for each other. A Ravenclaw with immunity from prosecution will study some forbidden things, and maybe research cures or counters for them while they're at it. But of all the groups, Slytherins are more likely than anyone to use that power to hurt others, cause damage, get a thrill out of the fear of their victims and advance themselves over the corpses of their rivals. In short, to recreate all of the horrors of Voldemort's last reign of terror. Yet you have done your level best to turn out a gang of evil hooligans under Snape, ideal to be the next generation of Death Eaters. Did you think fighting Voldemort was not enough of a challenge last time; is that why you are out doing your best to hinder the good side and help the bad? Or is your debt to Snape so deep you are helping him become our next Dark Lord? Is that why you're allowing him to train up a brutal generation of evil criminals at our school?"

Face purpling over his bruise and drooling from his injury, Dumbledore picked up his wand and wordlessly cast a healing charm that fixed his jaw, setting the bone so it could be used even without actually repairing the break. "That is quite enough, Professor Malfoy. Your unprovoked attack shall be dealt with properly, in its own time. But Severus Snape has already been pardoned by the Ministry for his acts during the last war. It was understood that he did them for the greater good, spying for the Light."

"Snape's worst legacy is not the crimes he committed as a Death Eater, or his questionable use as a spy playing BOTH sides for his own profit, but the decade of students who grew to hate his subject because he abused them, destroying any credibility of the teacher-student relationship and crippling the skills of an entire magical generation on a key subject!" She returned hotly. "Or do you choose to remain ignorant of the investigation going on right now into his crimes that he's accused of perpetrating Since You Hired Him?!"

"Until he is proven guilty, you shall treat him with the respect he deserves as a member of this staff!" Dumbledore roared, patience breaking.

"Until he starts ACTING like a teacher, I will treat him like the CHILD he behaves as!! A spoiled, evil, petulant little child at that!" Nodoka shouted to the consternation of the entire hall as Snape stood revealed in the doorway.

The Head of Slytherin sniffed disparagingly. "And who is the one shouting and striking out in front of a hall full of students? You set such a stellar example in self control, Miss Malfoy. Perhaps I missed a few lessons. Tell me..."

His cunning retort was cut off by an authoritative hand landing on his shoulder. Looking up showed him the face of two highly offended aurors, one of whom began speaking. "Mister Snape, you have been named as accomplice by several of your students in testimony given concerning their criminal acts. I am therefore obliged to place you under arrest. Please come with me. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."

The Potion Professor's startled eyes swiveled round to meet Nodoka's gaze. She spoke to the man's shocked face as he was chained up, "You are a childish, evil little man, Snape; and I won't let you get any more influence over future generations than you've already had. It ends now, Snape. You've made your bed, have grace enough to lie in it."

Coins began changing hands around Luna at the Ravenclaw table as bets got cashed in.

"And what about her assault on the Headmaster?" Snape shot, trying to spread some misery around while he still a chance. "Are you going to leave her there when she could be a danger to the students?"

"If he chooses to press charges it will go to trial," the auror answered calmly. "And our courts will be happy to prosecute; non-magical assault by a witch or a wizard against another witch or wizard is subject to a stiff fine of up to one-hundred galleons. However, the last person I'll believe about dangers to children is yourself, Mister Snape, alias the 'Horror of Hogwarts', and the Ministry is pressing hard for Dumbledore to come up on trial for abuse of the Boy Who Lived, and conspiracy with you on the many crimes for which you stand accused, child abuse among them. So if it comes out that he was criticizing her actions for calling us in on this case where some of your kids were caught melting the face off another, and she struck him... Why," the officer grinned. "I know our judges will be swift to punish her for it. They'll come down hard on her. They may fine her as much as a sickle, possibly even two."

I O I O I

Ryoga set his pack down and sat next to it, between his tent and the stack of branches he'd put together to form a campfire. Genma said he knew how his boy's mind worked, and he ought to, he'd raised him and trained him for over ten years. And Genma said he knew how Ranma would conceal himself and where he'd be hiding.

Searching China was hard work, though they all hoped it would soon bear fruit.

How hard could it be to track a redhaired Japanese girl in China supporting herself on the fighting circuit? Genma swore his child didn't have any other skills, except stealing, and was too dang moral to do that once he'd caught on to what that form of 'training' was.

Also Ryoga knew from experience that Ranma's extremely boyish manner and undeniably feminine figure stood out anywhere. Everyone noted a pretty face, and those... ahem, other assets stood out even more, in a literal sense as well as figurative. So in spite of dressing, talking, and acting male, having measurements a supermodel could be jealous of made his cursed rival attract so much attention, which he then beat off in spectacular ways, you only had to enter a town and ask a few questions to know if he'd been there. The contrast of a girl so pretty acting so repulsive (as well as claiming to be a boy) made him more memorable than either his red hair or martial arts would've done alone.

Cologne insisted they widen the search criteria to other physical professions that had easy entry requirements, like farming or construction. But regardless, Ranma would still be training, and so he'd stand out. So even if China did have more hidden villages than even their own government knew how to find, sooner or later Ranma would run out of places to hide, then they'd have him! Everyone was searching, and they'd narrow it down. It was just a matter of time now. With all of the people who knew that Happosai was the kind, benevolent savior he was out helping they couldn't lose!

Then they'd make that bastard Saotome pay!

Cologne had told them that no one among them would be able to use any magic devices until they'd removed Ranma's curse on them, and to do that they had to find him, err, her. It was just like that fiend to use an artifact to cast a spell like that on them before running away like the coward he was! But the ancient, shriveled old witch had many spells she could cast without resorting to tools, and Ryoga at least was grateful for the illusion of his pre-curse self.

She couldn't transform him, or so she'd said. Being locked made his curse far too powerful for so simple a cure, or so Cologne had explained, and Toma's male water complicated that yet further. So if anyone touched him they'd find a snout and tusks on his face, and these horrible two-fingered hands. And it wouldn't last very long, having to be renewed once a week. But at least no one ran screaming at the sight of him anymore. That was, no one did for about a week. It took him longer than that to find his way back to get another glamour spell cast. But at least it was some solace to his Saotome-spawned misery!

He'd enjoy tearing the flesh from his old adversary's bones.

And wandering around was better than hanging around the main group anyway. For one, he was used to it. But a far more major consideration was that between an invisible Genma stealing all of his food, and Soun gazing at him hungrily whenever he thought Ryoga wasn't looking, the Lost Boy just preferred to be out in the wilderness on his own.

Ryoga was just squatting down to cook something over a campfire when a stray paper blew into camp and plastered itself over his face. Pulling it away, he saw one of those newspapers with the moving pictures he'd happened upon from time to time, this one in English, talking about some Professor Malfoy hitting a Dumbledore guy.

Not recognizing either name, or the people in the picture (the teachers at some school, he guessed, since both of the people in the shot were called professors), he wadded up the paper and shoved it in between the sticks he'd built into a pyramid, using it to help his fire catch as he lit it with a match.

A second later he was warming his hands, grunting softly.

As the Lost Boy made careful marks on a map of China of which places he'd visited, the Tennessee Highway Patrol pulled over a speeder on the overpass he was camping under.

I O I O I

Kodachi had a happy feeling in her heart.

There were many happy reasons for this - a very happy realization when once she would have been over the top with joy to be happy over ONE!

She had a brother who loved her and cared for her, explained things about the mysterious male psyche that she'd probably never fully understand (but still remained a far sight better than trying to make sense of her father or Tachi) and then helped use them as her guide to wisdom on understanding the male mind!

For once, she could be whoever she wanted to be, and the thing she found the most joy in being was the sweet little girl she'd decided to become on receipt of so much kindness. It was odd, but every time she did a kind or generous act around here, people seemed to adore her for it.

So very much unlike the Kuno home.

And because people around her acted differently, it was far easier to understand what they did and did not view as kind or generous acts. SO very different from trying to learn from a study of the Kuno family's insanities! It was as if she had been trying to read confused kanji all of her life that someone who ought to know had just declared was not writing at all, but mindless worm trails cut into wood by burrowing insects!

It made sense to her why none of that made sense before! Her former family was insane, but growing up surrounded by them there was no sanity to compare them to!

Now she was wondering how she'd bourn it.

So much of a contrast to her happy life today. Why, just this morning she'd begun teaching her new and much beloved brother Harry the basics of her style of gymnastics. It was a female art she knew, but there was a male variant of it and she knew enough of it to get him started. They could easily import a proper instructor once he was ready and needed one. Until such time, she could get him firmly grounded in the basics.

And a bit more into shape. While she'd never say anything to hurt his feelings, Harry was scrawny and shaped like a beanpole - only without the height. She'd honestly taught four year old girls who had better muscle conditioning than he did. But all of that would come with time, which, as each other's family, they would have plenty of.

She was also grateful to be sharing his instruction into hobbies.

While she was certainly aware that her knowledge of plants and powders had started as a hobby, it had long since progressed past that into a part of her Art. So, it stood to reason (especially given the wide variety of martial arts she'd witnessed in her homeland) that other interests could spark additions to her combat repertoire.

It seemed doubtless they could, although collecting bottle caps might be a bit extreme of a stretch. Still... she paused as her mind filled with thoughts of a bottle-cap barrage and giant, rolling round wheels with bottlecap fringes bearing down on a startled enemy and put those doubts to rest. It could be done. She merely didn't know how to do it yet.

Hmm, bottlecap frisbees, those flanges supporting beautiful serrated edges...

Pulling her mind back to other business, shelving thoughts of her future combat art for now, she returned to that delightful concept of viewing how much improved her life was now over what she'd known before, and came to a core issue certain to make her life wonderful for all of her conceivable future!

The boy she'd pretended to love for so long (and actually gone far beyond pretending to a real feeling, almost without her noticing) loved her back.

That was so sweet! She was loved. It was a feeling not enjoyed since her mother passed, or the woman who'd she'd previously thought was her mother. This Lily person sounded superior, even in the rumors she'd heard, to her own slightly eccentric one.

Nonetheless, being loved was precious, a treasure unequaled by the vast Kuno fortune or any kind of privilege she had enjoyed thus far. And she had it. She had it from the boy she'd always wanted it from, a genuine hero and knight errant, questing to be reunited to his loves. A paragon of the truest values of loyalty and honor!

Okay, there was a bit of gender confusion going on. She could deal with that. It wasn't any great issue, really. Her past life was filled with insanities she'd had to put up with that were far worse. Her former brother Tachi filling his underpants with pudding and moaning about his pigtailed love, for one. Or that time her former father tried engaging her to that horrible desert prince who needed help on his used monkey farm.

She shuddered a bit at that last thought - the reason why she'd started using so many poison gas bombs, and swiftly turned her thoughts to happier venues.

Someday, it may not be soon but someday, she was going to be a bride, and the groom had already agreed, and was courting her! She was due to meet her Ranma-sama down in Hogsmead this evening, and he'd promised her a night to remember.

Life was bliss!

I O I O I

Unlike most years, this meeting of the school Board of Governors for Hogwarts was likely to be exciting, and eagerly anticipated by some while dreaded by others. Some did both at turns.

Luna was being swarmed by eager bet-takers.

There was the rather critical issue of Severus Snape's job review, whether he would be allowed to keep his position, or possibly prosecuted and even perhaps sent to jail for the criminal actions during his tenure.

Talk among the students was gleeful, and centered chiefly about how they'd punish him and what dreadful things the students eagerly anticipated occurring to their nemesis. Most of the punishments they thought up were worse than anything the Ministry was likely to do, even if the case did go to court, but that didn't stop the abused youngsters from spelling out in excruciating detail how they'd like their payback for his offenses.

Dumbledore spent the morning polishing his plans for Severus' defense. He'd been preparing those off and on since the need became painfully clear early on this year. Egad! Had it really only been a few weeks? Most years passed by with fewer major events than their initial few days with Nodoka Malfoy as an instructor.

To his displeasure, Dumbledore was not invited to the entire meeting of the Board, to hear testimonies and make initial reports, a courtesy most years he'd taken for granted. So he spent the additional time plotting and polishing his statement in hopes for a favorable outcome before going downstairs.

Among those summoned by the Board to give testimony, and consequently milling about before the closed room either before or after giving it, were several members of his staff, and he was pleased to note one who ought to have information he was seeking.

"Ah, Nodoka. I seem to have lost track of Sirius Black, and I was wondering if you could pass a message along to him. I am honestly quite surprised that he has not approached me on his own." Dumbledore smiled benignly as he approached the woman.

Looking him straight in the eye, she said, "I have no idea where Sirius is, Albus, only where he isn't. And he isn't anywhere I can get in touch with him. Perhaps if you had actually let him contact me back when we were close he wouldnt've have run off on me, but he has. I have no forwarding address or schedule of contacts, or any idea when I may see him again, and if you'd wanted Sirius to feel he could rely on you, in your place I would've started by being reliable. Your inaction, failing to step in on his behalf, sent him to Azkaban just as surely as if you'd been the Minister of Magic who'd decided he wasn't worth a trial. I am not surprised in the least that he has not chosen to contact you. You have betrayed, and continue to betray, everyone who'd ever trusted you. That's gone from Lily and James' wishes as to what was supposed to happen with their son, through countless sordid affairs on down to what you'd done trying to get Snivellus into my lab despite my most firmly stated objections and his openly stated wish to harm me. You've got no trust because you are unworthy of trust, and it will be a cold day in hell when I help you set up any more innocents to abuse and destroy - You've been playing the Master Manipulator so long you've forgotten what it is to even be human; and I wonder if you're not more like Voldemort than you suppose."

As his Legilimency confirmed that every word she'd said was true (though she had enough mastery of Occlumency to prevent him from rifling through her mind for the details, he could easily confirm that she hadn't lied, or even bent the truth once during that exchange - and it hurt to tell that she honestly believed that poorly of him), a flashbulb went off on a wizarding camera, and Dumbledore winced as he saw the reporters who'd witnessed this exchange, and knew that it would appear in the next issue of the Daily Prophet, word for word.

Nodoka had hired wizarding lawyers, and already prepared lawsuits ready to go on a moment's notice if they misquoted her - and she'd made sure the editor was aware of that, and that she had the leverage to not only shut down his paper, but to hold his personal fortunes responsible. The Daily Prophet didn't dare to cross her in any actionable way. Yet they hadn't had to misquote her to get absolutely amazing copy these days, and here he was getting caught in the center of that.

Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Nodoka had gotten away with a tiny little manipulation of the truth in her little confrontation, that his illegal mind reading didn't catch. She'd chosen to talk about the real Sirius Black, with whom she had no contact, and who long ago had chosen not to contact Dumbledore after seeing how the old man failed to raise any defense of him, or even an investigation of events, when he was framed. She'd just let Albus think she'd been talking about Sirius running off as if this was a recent event.

However, unbeknownst to her, this was the last time she'd get a free attack in on the elderly wizard perhaps for a very long time, if not ever.

Dumbledore was powerful, and he was popular for a reason. It was just that he'd allowed himself to become critically overextended and vulnerable on some poor judgment issues that she had caused him to be called upon.

The bad news for everybody was that she was not the only one taking advantage of the Headmaster's present vulnerability.

Lucius Malfoy, who was on the Board of Governors, came out of the room where the meeting was being held and, with an insufferable smirk, invited Dumbledore within.

I O I O I

"Headmaster Dumbledore," the Head of the Board addressed him in a less-than-friendly voice as he entered the room, which was a tragedy considering all of their years of easy camaraderie together. "All we require from you to conclude our deliberations on this subject are a few simple statements. You can confirm or deny as you like. Did you indeed hire Severus Snape, knowing that he was a Death Eater at the time?"

Seeking an opportunity to use his prepared arguments, Dumbledore answered and then immediately went on to his polished defense. "Yes, of course. You see..."

"That will do," the Head of the Board cut him off with a tired voice and hurt wince, as if Albus' words had been a slap. "And were you aware of his predilections toward his own House?"

Dumbledore stilled. This was not going how he wanted. That was a loaded question, a trap that he could be ruined for answering either way. If he didn't know about his Potion Master's egregious and obvious offenses, then how could he be trusted to be aware of anything going on in his school? But contrariwise, if he had known, how could he excuse his inaction? Severus had broken every rule of teacher conduct in the book, and quite a few laws in his treatment of students. Reluctantly, he answered, "Yes, but you see..."

Again his old friend winced as if slapped, a much stronger one this time. And Dumbledore trailed off in confusion to see Severus smirking in victory at him. Had he not been called here to present a defense for his Potions teacher? What was going on?

"And did you provide any instruction or direction to Professor Snape for improving his teaching methods?" Lucius asked the question this time, grinning like a cat with prey already in its claws.

"I understood him to be an expert on his subject," Dumbledore answered in guarded tones.

"Yet he never had any instruction on teaching," Lucius concluded proudly, then turned back to face the board with an easygoing, confident manner, assured of his success, and faked a pleasant yet regretful smile. "Well, I don't see how we can reach any other conclusion. Professor Snape's defense is clear enough, and our own Headmaster has corroborated it."

The board was clearly unhappy about this, but just as clearly felt locked into something.

"What, exactly, has been concluded?" Dumbledore asked warily.

I O I O I

Once the atrocious news had spread, it was a much subdued school that was talking about it. As Professor Malfoy's personal study group gathered together, Hermione was bringing several of the other students up to speed on the shameful details.

"Snape blamed Dumbledore's 'lack of counsel and direction' for his own horrendous teaching methods, and between him and Lucius got Dumbledore fired from his post, while saving Snape's job. It's an outrage. It's horrendous, but they claimed Dumbledore was the one responsible, having hired Snape and knowing his history, for teaching him better ways for dealing with students. Snape got off with probation. He's got a year to improve, and if he can show that he can be less of an evil bastard in that time, then he can claim to be on the right path at last and keep his position, all but cleared of any wrongdoing."

Ukyo sighed. "It's not the first time I've seen justice perverted by someone coming up with a smooth lie. And from what I've heard, Snape is an expert on smooth lies."

"Uhh, what's up with her?" Padma gestured to Shampoo, who was too upset to speak.

Ranko put an arm around her friend, calming the amazon lest she scare the locals by smashing apart a few walls. "Shampoo comes from a small village, where if the leaders do anything openly stupid they simply get removed, by lynch mob if necessary. It offends her deeply to see anyone in charge get away with this type of nonsense."

"Is criminal!" Shampoo whispered, while trying to get ahold of herself. "Blind leaders are for killing! Stupid, stupid men with brains of frogs! They ruin all! Must be stopped."

"Yeah, sugar. I don't think there are many kids in this school who'd disagree with you." Ukyo pronounced sadly. "Most of them never imagined that kind of injustice could happen, until they had to deal with this travesty."

I O I O I

"How could things have gone so wrong?"

Dumbledore was pacing in his office, pondering hard, his hands seeking out his candy bowl as he walked, bringing lemon drop after lemon drop to his mouth, crunching them instead of sucking as he tried to consider his situation. "Several times now I have come to a conclusion that I must abandon the defense of Severus, and each time I find myself slipping back into old patterns, standing up for him even at tremendous expense to my reputation. It is a losing battle, one that cannot be won, and yet I continue to fight it. Why is this?"

His grasping hand came up empty. After scouring the bottom of the bowl for a moment it caught his attention, and the Headmaster stared down at the empty candy dish, his favorite comfort gone. Sighing aloud, he rubbed his temples. "I shall have to ask Severus..."

His eyes flew wide at once.

To have completed that sentence would've required the words "... for another batch." The Potions Master, when he'd first come to Hogwarts, had been on his very best behavior and had frequently offered to do errands. Often the man had stopped by, with a kindly, "I am going down to Hogsmead, Headmaster. Is there anything I can pick up for you while I am out that way?"

In the interests of building trust and friendship he'd often accepted those offers, getting the new teacher to bring him back a trinket or book, new pair of socks, or... a bag of lemon drops.

Later, his Potions Master had made a suggestion that perhaps, since he was in the habit of offering sweets to students brought to his office, it would smooth feelings if he were to mix up his own batch with a mild cheering charm built into them. Dumbledore had agreed, and thought that he and his new professor were getting along greatly. And it had naturally been accepted to continue this line of logic that hooligans and other delinquents could be made more tractable if there was a mild truth serum in the candies as well, perhaps prepared as a separate batch, offered only to those who deserved it.

The Supreme Mugwump had known his own mental defenses and shields were up to an occasional snack on such a mild compulsion potion. But staring down at his bowl he came to realize that somehow, he wasn't even sure how, the potion-dosed drops had been the only ones to be delivered for years and years. He couldn't even recall when or how that happened, only that he'd accepted it unexamined.

The first few times Severus had offered to do him favors he had checked over the things he'd delivered for possible traps or spells. But he'd found nothing, and things had been so hectic he'd soon stopped checking.

Likewise, the first few batches of Severus' special lemon drops had been carefully checked over and proved to be nothing more than he'd offered.

And yet Snape was careful, always watching, and when Albus had gotten distracted by other matters, emergencies or the war on Voldemort...

Good God!

That snake! Always poised, ready and waiting for his guard to go down, to slip in a batch of candies dosed with far more than intended - ready with an excuse, he was sure, about how the dosage had been increased because of a slip of his hand or some such. He'd have been ready with such an excuse the first few times, but when Albus didn't catch it he'd go farther. Snape could use a more potent potion or otherwise increase the effectiveness, gradually stealing away the Headmaster's mind as he chewed thousands upon thousands of lemon drops!

Horrified, Albus recalled that he'd never been too fond of the treats before Severus came to Hogwarts. He'd enjoyed dozens of sweets and candies, often changing what he offered to guests coming into his office, so as to encourage conversation on subjects apart from the often painful ones that brought them there, and put them more at ease.

That had all stopped shortly after he'd first accepted a bag of lemon drops Severus had brought back from Hogsmead.

Daily reinforcement was a powerful force. Yes, Albus believed that his mental strength was great enough to counter an occasional dose with even a moderately powerful truth serum or mood potion. Yet... DAILY... over...

More than a decade. Egad, TEN YEARS of taking this?!?! Possibly eleven, he couldn't be sure. He could no longer recall precisely when. Specific dates had fled his mind, which was itself a sure sign of tampering concerning this topic.

Constructing a possible scenario on the subject, Dumbledore accepted as fact that he had been drugged, without his knowing, into taking at least one and possibly many potions that, whatever else they'd done, had encouraged him into taking more of them; first causing him to abandon other types of candy, and secondly to increase his consumption of these. Albus recalled that he'd taken to sucking on these dreadful sweets almost constantly, and whenever he was stressed or worried he would crunch them, to consume more quickly.

Thus, whatever other potions had been brewed into them found those dosages increased exponentially. Even if those had still been only the mild serums Severus had proposed (which he could no longer believe), constant high doses over years would cause even his great mental walls to crumble - and Severus was an accomplished Legilimens, whatever suggestions or commands he wanted to implant, he could do so himself through a weak enough shield. That skill, reinforced by potions...

Albus sat down in his chair and wept.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

And here we have the alternate view of Dumbledore, that of a well-meaning old fogie who genuinely intends to do good, but is either insane or utterly incompetent.

However, that thesis doesn't hold up on it's own. A person who is incompetent, or crazy, will make decisions all over the place. Some will be bad, some good, while most will be some variant of crazy. And, it is an inescapable FACT that Dumbledore's arranging of Harry's life was consistent - bad choices all of the time.

Well, consistent bad choices all of the time comes only through malicious intent. It doesn't happen by accident. So, if Albus is merely fruity, an old man not in control of his own marbles, then someone else must be making those choices for him.

So, the only way to get a quasi-innocent Albus is to present one who was controlled by enemy action. And who better for that than Snape?


	20. Chapter 20

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Twenty

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Lucius Malfoy was a happy man, and came merrily down the halls of Hogwarts to his sister's room, swinging his cane on the way.

"Ah," he spotted her with a group of children, including her daughter, whom he smiled upon, then ignored. "I'm sure you'll have heard the news." He faked a moment of grief. "Tragic, isn't it, that so venerated a man could have gone so foul? Still, you've said as much in the news, that's Albus has become barely better than a Dark Lord. So it's for the best, I'm sure. Now it's time for congratulations. I wanted to be the first to tell you, so you'd hear the happy news from my own lips. I am going to be the new Headmaster, and will ensure that all your children get a proper education."

That 'all your children' was too obvious a mistake, when she only had one. It was obviously bait, but for what she dared not say. So Nodoka said nothing, just drew her daughter closer and waited for the other shoe to drop.

Lucius noted the gesture. "Ah, I see you caught the reference. Yes, I see no point in postponing the happy news." The former Death Eater feigned a concerned and fatherly gaze. "As Head of the Malfoy family I am responsible for all of its members, including my dear and yet wayward sister. You've had a child our of wedlock, 'Doka." He tsked. "Very shameful. And yet nothing that we can't rectify. As used goods you can't expect the same type of marriage I could have arranged for you in our youth, yet I've managed to find some poor but generous soul willing to take you, an old friend of yours as a matter of fact. So, as Head of our little family I've agreed for you to be wed to Severus Snape. I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

He gave her white, shocked face a very nasty smirk, then pretended concern. "What? Nothing to say? I was so sure you'd be overjoyed, but to be speechless? Why, that's even better than I anticipated. I shall have to tell Severus at once how his future bride is so overcome with joy that she nearly fainted. Why don't you girls get your Defense teacher to a couch, hmm? I believe she needs to sit down for a moment."

With a happy twirl of his cane and swirl of his cloak he set off marching to the dungeons.

"Ah, Severus. Good to be home?" The new Headmaster walked into the Potion Master's suite near the Slytherin common room, clearly expecting to be thanked.

"Your planning and execution were flawless, as ever." Snape replied with less of his usual severity, getting to the heart of the matter by addressing the real need - stroking his patron's ego. A man like Lucius Malfoy did not do favors without expecting thanks.

"Did you expect otherwise?" Lucius twinkled cunningly, seated himself without being asked and poured himself a large goblet of red wine, which he sniffed and raised. "A toast, to the happy future I see ahead for both of us!"

"Both of us?" Severus asked politely, restraining several of his worse impulses to do so, even as he poured himself a goblet from the same bottle and moved to match the toast.

"Of course!" Lucius, not a man to make so obvious a mistake as drinking something he'd just found in Snape's quarters without examining it first, dipped a rod of unicorn horn in his wine. Only when the indicator failed to reveal any poisons or potions did he sip the red vintage. "I've got the Wizengamot so bogged down in procedures they'll be years before they bring you to trial - years for the public to forget, then not to care when those charges are dropped or witnesses disappear... or forget. Don't you agree?"

Snape did his best to sneer in an approving way. "Obliviate is such a useful spell, isn't it?"

"I know enough to know that you couldn't have graduated Hogwarts without it. Expelled as a first year, was it? Or, you would have been if certain folks had recalled what happened to them," Lucius said with a direct and piercing gaze, settling down when Snape meekly failed to respond. Suddenly he was the gracious host again, setting down the barely tasted goblet and shoving it away. That one, brief touch of wine on his tongue assured him that the myth he'd once heard that certain potions could be brewed that not even a unicorn horn indicator could detect, was in reality quite true. He knew the vintage that bottle claimed to be, was intimately acquainted with its flavor, and that had tasted nothing like what it was purported to be. Although a man with less discriminating taste in wines would not have noticed a thing.

He admired that kind of cunning deviousness in a man, so long as that man knew his place and wasn't of a mind to challenge his betters.

"So I am to be resuming my classes." Snape filled the hole in this conversation. "I don't know whether to be relieved, or annoyed. Without school resources my little..." he paused as if to taste his tongue, then tried out the words. "Side business? Would grind to a halt, but I wouldn't be hip-deep in arrogant little brats, either."

Lucius sniffed, a form of chortle that showed his amusement. "And half the dark powders and potions in England would suddenly become unavailable, without you supplying them." He threw on an innocent face, saying softly, "And we can't have that, can we? Not when so many doors are opened by a judicious use of a little touch or dash here or there." He ended with a nasty smirk showing how much he reveled in his superiority over lesser beings, and revealed quite plainly just who had been using so many of those forbidden potions and powders that he couldn't afford a restriction on their availability.

Suddenly Lucius was standing, his cane back in hand as he moved to pause at the door. "Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the Deputy Headmistress had something to say about you getting all of your classes back. She'd already hired a replacement Potions teacher in the form of Cologne, who now holds two courses, and with you back on staff Minerva used her authority to arrange for the scheduling of classes. You only teach one day a week, my friend. The one day that Cologne woman goes down to the Ministry for God knows what. I still haven't gotten that Edgar fellow to say a word, although I have..." a nasty smirk came again, "other resources who should be able to inform me what he and Nodoka and Cologne are up to very shortly."

Lucius gave a very condescending gaze to Severus. "Interestingly enough, you'll teach only your own Slytherins. Perhaps you could make use of this opportunity to better our prospects for the future, Mm?"

Snape was tasting his own lips, and not liking the flavor. He spared a swift and nervous glance to his new patron. "I shall need more class time than that to cover for my activities. The consequences of discovery could be... dire, and I don't need people wondering what I am up to in my copious free time."

Lucius gave an amused facial twitch. "Then I shall arrange for you to take the other unclaimed course. Presently Filch is substituting for my dear younger sister when she takes a day off to go down to the Ministry - and I've learned enough to know this is her long-term schedule. You can take over her Defense class on Fridays, when she's busy meddling on my home grounds. You know? I even believe that's another day full of Slytherins. You'll have more opportunity to mold your House than any other Head in our lifetimes." Lucius finished these last words in honeyed tones that concealed venom. "Don't disappoint me, Severus."

"And McGonagall?" Snape snapped off the question quickly, before his patron could depart.

"Oh, did I forget to say?" Lucius paused at the door with an oily, self-satisfied grin. "As the new Headmaster, I am expected to perform discipline, and when necessary replace those school officers who displease me. Minerva made a mistake when she acted without asking my permission. So I had her removed from her post as Deputy Headmistress. She now is just a simple Transfiguration teacher, and Head of Gryffindor, of course. I don't want to wake those sleeping lions by upsetting them too much all at once. You ought to recall clearly how dangerous those who wear the red and gold can be when they get riled. So they get to keep their Head of House for now. We'll see if that needs changing later on."

Snape spoke slowly. "The charter requires that a male Headmaster have a female deputy and vice versa. So I know that your new assistant isn't going to be me." He meekly met his patron's eyes and carefully formed one syllable. "Who?"

His reply was an arrogant smirk, and a jaunty, "You shall know soon enough. After all, there is the small matter of the official who is to be appointed to watch over your probation, and I wouldn't want to keep my contacts waiting. Who knows who it might be if I let them decide these sort of things for themselves?"

As the door closed behind him, Lucius' voice carried back from the cold dungeon corridor, "Oh, and I let my sister know who her future husband is going to be. Either she goes along and is yours to do with as you please, or she resists, which is just as well, if not better. It ought to be interesting either way."

I O I O I

"Are you going to be alright, mom?"

"I'm not sure," Nodoka told her daughter as they helped to her a seat in her tower. "Lucius has just appeared to open another front. I was on the attacking side, now I've got to defend. It is not a welcome change, nor would I have selected him for my opponent."

"What's so scary about him?" Ukyo asked.

Nodoka chuckled dryly. "Lucius is a grand plotter. Moldyshorts wouldn't have been half as effective if he hadn't had my brother at his elbow whispering schemes. Between the two of them they'd often flummoxed Dumbledore, and that was before they'd inserted Snape as a double agent. With him in place supplying so much information, they became twice as effective and had in effect won that war before Moldy lost it in the upset when he attacked the Potters. They'd all but crushed the last resistance by then, even the Order members were going into hiding as not even Dumbledore's closest friends could be sure of their safety anymore. The only reason Lucius couldn't carry on in Voldemort's place was that Dark Lords are jealous and always on the watch for backstabbers, so he'd very carefully kept the reigns of power out of the hands of plotting subordinates. Moldy's Death Nibblers had conflicting interests that required him to coordinate them, and answered to no authority but his. Spies reported to Moldy alone, and so on. Like a spider in his web, Moldyshorts controlled every string. He carefully made sure he was central to everything, that nothing could go on among his followers without his awareness. Otherwise I'm sure my brother would've taken command in his absence."

Cologne was nodding. "Historically speaking, the worst threat any Dark Lord or Lady faces is from their own followers. More Slytherin uprisings have fallen to internal fighting than any other cause, and those are the ones that grew great enough to notice. Nothing is or can be said about the plots that die stillborn. But all their attempts that we know of have had serious infighting issues that weakened those they did not destroy."

Nodoka nodded at that input. "Yes. So, much as my brother would've liked to, Moldy's setup made him unable to step in and take over in his place when the Dork Lord got in a stupid accident and shot himself in the face with a killing curse."

"After bouncing it off Harry Potter." Ranko snickered.

"In magic you must always remember to stay on your toes. Nobody knows everything, and if you aren't prepared for the unexpected you'll never go very far in it. If he'd only been wary enough to duck when it came back at him he'd be ruling England now, and would have been for over ten years. A prophesied defeat of an enemy is all very well to talk about, but sometimes he is just stupid. Magic is too vast for anyone to be aware of all of the variables, so if you can't adapt you're done for, and that is why I fear my brother."

"Uh, you lost me, Sugar." Ukyo double-blinked. "You fear your brother because he can adapt? I thought anybody could do that."

"On a personal level, yes, you're right, though some are noticeably better at it than others. But I was thinking in terms of scheming and plotting. A plot can be a delicate thing, and to twist it at the wrong moment often brings the whole thing down. Dumbledore's style is the delicate art of crafting airy plots so thin that hardly anybody notices them, and that's put him at the top of wizarding government in Europe - no small achievement. But Moldyshorts had a different approach that favored more brute force. Tom Riddle is among the most powerful wizards Hogwarts has trained in a century, and he's added to that decades of self study. He is sufficiently powerful all alone that few could stand against him with any degree of success, and he enjoyed using that power personally, granting more of a 'Smash and Bash' style to his search for more and more power.

"My brother, on the other hand, is despite his overweening pride, more of a pragmatist. He is like me in that he takes the 'whatever works' approach to scheming, and is able to change gears at a whim to better suit his situation. Sometimes that is weaving a few airy, delicately crafted and hard to detect schemes, on other occasions he uses brute force, and still others he employs different methods. That makes him much harder to counter. As soon as you've uncovered one of Dumbledore's plots they fall apart easily enough, the tricky part is finding them, and once Snape was in place that was childishly easy. A pure 'Smash and Bash' plotter is simple enough to trip up, and finish off once they are down. But Lucius is more dangerous than either type alone because to him those are just tools in his bag, and he'll pick which one best fits each scenario. I earnestly believe that without his help Moldyshorts would've been dealt with by magical law enforcement in the first year or so of his open bid for power. But my brother kept him around and successful long enough for the fear to kick in, and in the end it was fear that was winning that war for him.

"In fact, from what Edgar has been telling me, my brother has been so successful plotting since he got the charges against him from the last war dropped that now he more or less controls the Ministry of Magic in Britain. It is still an uncertain control, subject to setbacks and upsets by others who still hold an influence. But his power there is still rapidly eclipsing Dumbledore's. Without my interference he probably could have ousted the Headmaster in another year or two. With it... well, I am afraid that I've accidentally advanced his position considerably. My attacks on Dumbledore shook loose alot of power and influence from his grasp, that my brother has been eagerly snatching up. And between the two, I'd far rather I had Dumbledore as my enemy."

Nodoka swallowed and then licked her lip thoughtfully. "The worst thing is, I think I've got them both. Dumbledore is still a powerful figure in government, and I'm afraid he and I aren't allies. In this arena, that makes us enemies. And I don't know what I could do at this point to change that. Any offer I made would sound insincere, nor do I think he'll make another. I was very inelegant when turning down his last offer of mutual support. I regret that now. If I'd only been more polite about it we could more easily reopen negotiations, but I fear that's not possible now. Too many bridges have been burned."

Ranko smacked her lips, making a sound to draw her mother's attention, then calmly replied, "Then build another."

Nodoka laughed. "I wish it were so easy. But as you say, I'll make an attempt. Even if I get turned down that evens us out on that score, and makes a future deal more possible."

"So, aren't you worried about Snape at all?" Hermione asked around her bookbag.

Cologne laughed. "Why should she be?"

"Well, he is supposed to be married to her..." the bookworm hedged uncomfortably.

Ranko's mother raised her head and shook it, overcoming her shock at the attack. "No, dear. I said my brother is a plotter. No matter what Snivellus may think, to Lucius he is just a pawn to be disposed of. A sweet few words to comfort him, a delay in his trial and a promise of aid, all of those cost my brother next to nothing because he has no intention of fulfilling that promise. It will be 'unavoidable', he will be 'outmaneuvered', or so he'll say, just in case some scrap of Snape survives his future and Lucius wants to salvage a bit of him later. But you can be absolutely sure that my brother is going to throw him to the wolves. He'll just wait for an appropriate time to come so he can do so for his own advantage. He'll even help turn Snape in so he can be on the winning side. He quietly did much the same during the end of the last war. No, what Lucius is planning to do here is fairly obvious. He threw a reprehensible thug in my face hoping that I would spend my time and efforts shooting him down when Snape is already certain of destruction all on his own. Thus, I would be wasting my time and attention to no purpose doing what was already going to happen anyway, and Lucky Lucy would be free and unfettered by opposition in doing something else. It's a fairly basic tactic, but it's been ages since he's seen me and I wasn't much of a schemer the last time. Before I left all I wanted was to be left alone. It was he who helped convince me that wasn't possible, when he assisted Voldemort's chosen man to 'recruit' me. I had a very nasty wake up call. But life on the run, and looking back on my memories of plots I'd never cared to be part of but knew about because of my proximity to Lucius, that taught me most of what I know now about scheming and manipulation. The trouble is, he is a practiced expert, while I am still a novice. So far a very lucky one, but still a novice all the same."

Ranko was wide-eyed. "So, my cousin, Draco (that was his name, right?). Is he going to be some super-plotter in the future. Is that something I have to guard against?"

She was answered by a dry chuckle. "No, Ranko dear, I don't think you'll have any trouble from Draco. While my acquaintance with him was fairly brief, I did get a good measure of your cousin. He certainly idolizes his father, but isn't half so intelligent. And trying to copy his father's methods without his father's sharp wits is a recipe for disaster. He'd do better as a simple thug, doing Smash and Bash. It's more suited to his personality and mental ability. Trying to be a copy of his father is like a pig admiring a swan and trying to fly. No matter how you paint him, he's just not suited for it."

"So Voldemort wasn't subtle, huh?" Tiny, eleven year old Ukyo put her hands on her hips and smirked.

"He could be, it was just not his natural inclination. His first impulse was toward grand and often poorly thought through, yet impressive, gestures like loosing a thousand year old basilisk in a school full of children during the year, when he wanted people to feel safe letting kids like him stay there over the summer. No, Tom was not ever pure 'Smash and Bash', but it was a definite leaning of his. However, he was certainly clever enough to seize on a good scheme proposed by others, sometimes modifying or adapting a plan on his own to make it less likely for the one suggesting it to have much control over the outcome. He was a very paranoid man concerning his underlings." Nodoka quipped primly.

"As I said before, a necessary trait for his position. Dark Lords who aren't wary about their underlings end up six feet under them." Cologne agreed. "It's a universal rule."

"Ah, mom?" Ranko ventured, gesturing to the rest of the school-age girls. "We've gotta go. There's a big meeting about the Allied Houses. Meet you after?"

"Sure, hon. Go and enjoy yourselves. Cologne and I have to talk anyway."

I O I O I

A large number of advanced students met and greeted each other in a freshly cleaned, yet unused classroom to report on their findings of the search for lost spells used by Gryffindor House.

A seventh-year Ravenclaw girl got up to summarize the efforts of her House. "Here is what we've managed to discover so far: Godric Gryffindor DID leave behind spells for pupils of his House to use, and by early reports they were the most significant by far of the legacies to students by any of the Founders. All of our research agrees on this, but none of them can tell us what they are. Apparently they were never written in a book, and those who learned them couldn't communicate them or write them down, due to some part of the process of acquiring them. Now, several of us went and asked some friendly ghosts, which is generally a very good habit to get into when you want to know some history, but they are being surprisingly close-mouthed about this. The paintings are the same. Often you can get tips from them on almost any issue, so the silence of both is remarkable, even unique. None of us Ravenclaws have ever, and I'd like to repeat EVER, found an issue either the paintings or the resident ghosts couldn't shed some light on. Here, they won't even discuss possibilities. They're hiding something, that's obvious. What isn't obvious is why."

A prominent Hufflepuff boy, also a seventh-year, rose to reveal his House's findings gotten by turning out all able members to systematically rake through the available sources of information. "We've discovered several ancient diaries, and to put those rambling mentions we found into a coherent summary we come up with this: Not all Gryffindor students knew all of those spells Godric left them, which is a departure from the way both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have done things. We get all ours at entry, and yet Gryffindors do not. But there is more: Most of the references we've found refer to getting clues from ghosts and portraits. Our best guess is that Godric set up a giant treasure hunt, sort of a quest to prove a student was ready or worthy or whatever before they learned a spell, and that some charms could be learned early, and some later, as you mastered more material. There's even books of poetry on this, telling tales of Gryffindors peering in attics or answering rhymes though all seven of their years here. And most of the early books about Hogwarts talk about 'Eternally Questing' Gryffindors. Our conclusion is that, like we in Hufflepuff have this big mechanism of traditions built around incorporating our new students and training them up to be loyal and hard working, Gryffindor set up something to train his heirs to be brave, and that he'd used this whole castle as part of his maze for teaching bravery and courage, as well as a degree of cleverness - we do have to recall that he was best friends with Slytherin for a long while."

Ravenclaw was impressed that Hufflepuff's findings were at least on a level, if not more significant than theirs.

"I have something to add to that." Hermione surprised them all by standing up, a first year with something to say that older kids had not yet discovered.

At least, thought the Ravenclaws, she was one of theirs. Gryffindor was thinking the exact same thing, which was ironic, but comforting to them as they'd not had anything else to add and that was embarrassing.

"First you all must understand that Hogwarts wasn't always as it is now," The bushy-haired girl told the group. "About three hundred years ago large sections of it were sealed by a ruler named Oliver Cromwell, who was in control of England at the time, and was against magic and felt threatened by witches and wizards. He closed portions of Hogwarts that have never been recovered, and since they are under a Royal Seal, the spells preventing their use cannot be removed. Those of you who have read Hogwarts: A History know about the Rose Tower, which is the original DADA classroom dating back to the founding. There are other sealed portions as well, to which we no longer have access. Now what do you think happens when you take a treasure map and tear it up into little pieces, then seal some of those torn bits away? This is what occurred three hundred years ago. If Hogwarts is a maze, set up to teach Gryffindors how to cast unique spells, then what happens when someone like Cromwell bricks up half of those doors? It would've been nearly impossible to follow the clues correctly anymore."

"If the Rose Tower was a Defense classroom, then Gryffindors, who've always felt that was 'their subject', probably began the whole course of questing after spells and clues there." A Ravenclaw boy in the fourth year mused aloud.

"That doesn't explain why the ghosts and paintings are silent, though." A Ravenclaw girl responded.

" But it does! Don't you see?" Hermione interjected emotionally, having thought this through very carefully before presenting it. "What if you couldn't rely on enough older Gryffindors always having passed all of the tests so they could pass on those clues? You never could rely on that, because every so often you'd get a bad crop that wouldn't find them all, and then no one after them could gain mastery beyond what was passed down to them. The same with teachers. The only place where you could leave those clues and riddles without a risk of someone losing them during a bad generation would be to leave them in the care of the ghosts and paintings to tell to students who'd passed certain tests! So at some point, either because of sealed portions making the quests impossible or too confusing, or because of a Headmaster or Minister thinking that those spells were too dangerous to go on being allowed to students, someone in authority gave the order to the ghosts and paintings to stop giving out clues!"

"Wow." many of the students there agreed.

"So, we've got two obstacles before us." A Gryffindor Prefect of the sixth year mused. "In order to get back House Gryffindor's spells, we've got to break a Royal Seal on areas of Hogwarts so we've got the whole puzzle to play with instead of bits. Then we've got to convince the ghosts and paintings to talk again so we can get our clues to start hunting."

"I don't think we can do it," a Ravenclaw girl objected. "In five hundred years that we know of there's no record of any witch or wizard breaking a spell under Royal Seal. In order for those spells to be removed, the person holding the Seal has to first give permission, and the last magical Seal of Britain was lost hundreds of years ago. I don't think our world's best Charms experts could make another. Those secrets have been lost."

Everyone sat in gloom for a few minutes. Especially gloomy were the Gryffindors.

"So we'll never get those spells," someone gloomed despondently.

"Well," a Hufflepuff broke the silence. "On a related note, we've found more charms that Ravenclaw once had. Apparently, during a Goblin Rebellion seven hundred years ago they attacked Hogwarts and the oldest two years of students were drafted for defense. None survived, and the Goblins occupied the castle, but the lowest five years of students who had been barricaded in their dorms were saved by a counterattack two days later that drove out the goblins and freed the castle. Now unlike the Hufflepuff spells, which any third year (and, as Ranko and her friends proved, even some first years) student could cast, two of Ravenclaw's spells were NEWT level casting, and with all those NEWT students gone, killed by goblins, they didn't have anyone left to teach them to the next generation growing up. Nor did enough of the staff survive to rekindle them. But there were one or two families that kept them alive as family secrets until those lines died out, and using those fast reading charms Ravenclaw had already taught us, Hufflepuffs have gone through half of the moldy texts in the least used corners of the library and discovered, in some of those tomes willed to Hogwarts as part of dying family's estates, a charm book containing those spells."

"No one's looked at them since they arrived. They were just shelved to be sorted later, and later never arrived." Another Hufflepuff confirmed.

A Gryffindor whistled, and a Ravenclaw mumbled, "Now I know why they call you guys the House of Hard Workers."

"Thank you," the Hufflepuff Prefect acknowledged that as praise. "Now the three charms you already had were to read more swiftly, to retain what you read, and to increase comprehension by helping you believe what was being taught. The other two are even more versatile. One allows the user to hold more complex thoughts and concepts more easily and completely. We've already tried that one and it makes a world of difference in learning difficult subjects, almost like you're three times as smart without really being so. The other makes the subject a lightning calculator, able to do complex math with hardly any effort at all, once you've learned it in the first place, that is. But some of our muggleborns who went to muggle schools say that equations they had to use paper to work out before they can now do in their heads, no problem. So we went and tested, getting people who had done the first two charms to read some muggle math texts one of our Puffs had forgotten in an old school backpack and accidentally brought along, and it seems very easy to us. Also, our Arithmancy essays have gotten very simple too, since we started to apply the charms this morning. It's hardly any effort at all to do most of our calculations."

"This makes me wonder," a Ravenclaw third year mused. "What spells did Slytherin once have? And do they still have them?"

I O I O I

Several changes had occurred at Hogwarts after that first hectic week of frantic activity.

Out in Hagrid's stables, Nabiki's portrait was reading books which a newly enchanted stand flipped for her. This was better for both girls in many ways, as Nabiki got to hear her voice, which oddly soothed her sister also, and being intelligent, rather than a self reading book, her portrait responded to requests to skip a bit or go back to reread sections as the sisters desired. And the painted girl was fairly good at anticipating what their tastes called for.

Kasumi had grown a full sized unicorn horn, and her friends still brushed out her coat and mane twice a day, using charms to gather bales of fine, long golden hair. They gathered so much, they explained, because once this chance was gone there may never come another. There never were any before. So they gathered, not only a lifetime supply for themselves, but what they all hoped would be a family supply to serve their children for generations.

Besides, they had to get enough gold colored unicorn hair to go with the eventual silver and finally white, for when her coat changed colors - if things lasted that long. Everyone dreaded her staying cursed the two years it would take for her coat to change to silver, then white. But looking on the good side, Kasumi did enjoy the attention of her twice daily brushings.

Nodoka had surprised her whole study group, inviting them in for private fitting sessions, where she used Profile Charms she'd invented to show what an injured wizard should look like when whole (so she could know how best to rearrange tissue to erase large scars) and tweaked them a bit for sewing purposes, revealing what those girls would look like at their full, adult growth. She sized their protective garments to that (unfortunately naked) image, then shrank the clothes to fit the dreadfully embarrassed girls at their current, younger sizes. Shrinking charms didn't last forever, and would have to be redone each month, but they'd grow into their garments over time. Then they'd be fit for a lifetime.

While Ranko, Ukyo, Shampoo, Padma and Parvati, plus Kodachi, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Azusa, Lavender and Susan all tried on their new layered silk undergarments, dragonhide teddies, and gorgeous gowns, Cologne was making them layered silk ninja outfits, close fitting dragonscale armor, and other combat accessories, putting all of that to soak in foul smelling baths of various magical oils to increase their protective value and flexibility. The dragonhide at least would fit like a second skin, invisibly and literally blending with their own until they'd almost certainly forget they wore it - which was fine, it would grow and adapt as their own skins did, shifting to always fit their bodies, so even if they got pregnant the armor would always be adjusting to accommodate them.

However, the greatest changes to the school had been upon Slytherin. They had received so many shocks in the period of a week that it was quite reasonable for them to be feeling a little shaken. That House had been rocked to its foundations more than once with the events that had transpired.

Slytherin had their Head of House arrested (more than once), also beaten bloody in front of their eyes after it had been revealed that he still had an unfulfilled Unbreakable Vow to force another into the service of Lord Voldemort.

With Snape dancing in and out of prison for a week, being relieved of his post and other sundry catastrophes occurring to him, he hadn't been much of a stabilizing influence on his favorite students as they'd had to deal with being exposed to their parents as Dark Witches and Wizards in training, had been subject to a police search, and many of them fined or arrested for hoarding Dark Arts artifacts or having cast Dark Arts spells.

The mass transfer of former Slytherin students to other schools was completely predictable. But it left behind those who didn't mind their dark reputation, had parents who supported a future of dark magic or just plain didn't care, and were more determined than ever to do what they liked and just get better about getting away with it in the future.

They had, in short, stripped that House of all those who weren't truly committed to evil.

With the moderate Slytherins gone, horrified by their treatment and looming bleak future and so fled to other schools, only the really extreme ones were left. However, with the recent arrests of some few of their older members, they were going to be sneaky about doing whatever it was they wanted to do.

Events had conspired, as a matter of fact, into purifying out the weak ones, the uncommitted and the mere dabblers, transforming that House into a student base Slytherin himself could have been proud of. One that was proud and ruthless and ambitious, without a care for how the rest of society thought of them except to spur them on to hiding how very rotten they were before outsiders and those who had authority to hurt them for cruel and wicked deeds.

It was the first, very vital Slytherin House in a long while, strong and united in their desire to do whatever they had to do to get more money and power, and determined to conceal how they did so from others.

Salazar Slytherin would have been so proud.

They still wanted to do awful things, they just wanted to continue getting away with them.

Of course, those changes to the Serpent House had some good fallout. Those who didn't particularly want to be the scourges of the wizarding world got out and were glad to do so. Ronald Weasley had pleaded and pleaded with his parents, expecting much greater resistance than he got, but after the scandals breaking earlier and their own ingrained dislike for the House he'd wound up in, had faced virtually no resistance in getting transferred to Beauxbatons in France, where the youngest boy found, to his great surprise, that he was no longer living in the shadow of his elder siblings. Using some of Molly's new salary and hiring bonus, he had brand new school supplies and clothes instead of hand-me-downs, and no one had even heard much of his family when he got there. It was quite a change from facing down the legacy of so many successful older siblings, and he felt certain that he could grow into his own man there. He had actually achieved his prime ambition by the transfer.

The only downside was learning how to speak French in under a week.

Percy, unusually enough, did not care for a change. With one of the Slytherin prefects gone, expelled for casting a cutting curse on Professor Malfoy's prize magical bull and destroying Snape's Potions classroom and injuring a whole year of Slytherin students as a direct result, young Percy had once again become a prefect, and was not willing to leave that position of power to go to another, more unfamiliar school where he'd have to start all over impressing teachers and becoming a leading figure among the student body.

Having had a taste of power, Percy found that he liked it. He liked it so much that he wanted more of it, and more and more of his attention had been focusing that way as the years went by. He fell in love with power and a pursuit of it had gradually been consuming him from the time he'd first discovered his taste for it.

Transferring him to Slytherin was only too appropriate, sadly enough, and the pureblood boy found too many who were willing to offer him power in return for his allegiance.

No, Percy had found his true place in Slytherin.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Sadly, I fear most people underestimate poor Lucius. Sure, he's a bastard, but he was able to bounce Albus 'I can't remember all of my titles' Dumbledore's wrinkly bottom out of Hogwarts once - something the Minister himself couldn't manage later.

Some people favor Umbridge for a villain. Really, she's easy to hate. But that's what makes her a poor choice for a long term antagonist. After she's done making everyone her enemy she's fairy easy to take down.

Lucius, at least makes for a clever antagonist. He makes people, important people, need him in ways such that they never want to give him up.

Lucius gets more power over time, not less.


	21. Chapter 21

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Twenty-One

by Lionheart

I O I O I

"Is everything alright, Severus?"

"Yes, perfectly." Snape answered his friend, omitting the usual sneer.

"Then why are you waiting around the castle gates?" Lucius, in a well-trimmed fur cloak, asked with a wave of one expensively gloved hand indicating the ancient stonework.

"I'd heard the former Headmaster has been ordered to leave the grounds. I was hoping to..." Snape gave a significant pause he was sure the other Death Eater understood, "See him off, assure him it was all For The Greater Good."

Lucius enjoyed a chuckle. They both knew of the scheme that had left Dumbledore's mind as open and undefended as a bowl of lemon drops. Among certain circles he was already, very quietly, known as 'Headmaster Ox', because an ox was a dumb brute of an animal that was harnessed by a much weaker farmer, and it's strength became simply his tool.

And, any tool in a Death Eater's hands served Death Eater interests.

"Pity, then, that you missed him," Lucius supplied in amused self-interest. "But he's already left another way; by broom as I recall."

A flash of concern crossed the Potion Master's features. "Indeed? Not what I would have expected of him."

Lucius' manners lost their jovial tone at once, understanding the implications. Snape knew Dumbledore's mind as well as he did his potion classroom - better, as he'd spent more time in the one than the other.

Lucius sucked on the implications a moment, before deliberately pondering aloud thoughts he was sure Snape had already had, "Pity that he chooses now to become unpredictable. Did he let you know what his plans are?"

Snape shook his head slowly, real worry crossing his face briefly. "No, and that concerns me. I'd specifically programmed him to feel compelled to discuss any matters of import with me before making a decision. Moving on from this cherished post, which he understood to be a lifelong position... it should have been impossible for him to consider his next step without consulting me."

"You've had control of him for years," Lucius cautioned. "And you reassured me that you could keep him under tight control despite this. Are you saying that's jeopardized?"

Snape's face became a mask. "Of course not," he scoffed, always polite to this person. "He is likely in shock, acting without thinking. He'll soon seek me out. He always does."

"I suppose," Lucius allowed grudgingly, "in light of recent events a little rebelliousness could be understood, on his part. See to it that it does not grow into more."

Snape felt a cold wind blow as Lucius Malfoy departed.

I O I O I

It was Monday once again, and that meant, after breakfast and the disaster of a Board meeting, that it was time for Ravenclaw and Gryffindor to head over to their Defense class with Professor Nodoka Malfoy.

A few whispered words to her daughter and all three allied Houses sent their first two years to this lesson. The classroom was large enough to handle it, and her pensieve easily vast enough, so it really wasn't much of a problem for her to take so many at once. Also, there was a special reason for it.

As she had told Lupin, as anyone really involved in Defense knew, the most important lesson was not to panic. And panic was most certain to set in when one got caught in a dangerous circumstance by surprise.

Surprises could be arranged.

You could teach a person not to panic, but until they knew what panic was you weren't likely to have any success at it. The sheer, visceral sensation came as a stranger the first few visits and that strangeness was often enough to shatter any well-meaning resolve to avoid it.

Once you had some familiarity with real fear, only then could you really work to overcome it and keep your head about you in times of peril. And to get that familiarity, something had to trigger your deep-seated reaction to danger at least once.

The dangerous circumstances didn't have to be real. In fact, it was better if they weren't. You lost fewer students that way. Nodoka's plan was to teach them a lesson with the pensieve about acromantulas. Then, while she was doing that, Lupin brought the students out, one by one. He would be under an invisibility cloak so they couldn't see him. What they would see was a burst-open set of chamber doors and a giant acromantula charging at them as the other students of the class stood paralyzed, still using the pensieve.

The invisible wall of unbreakable glass between them and the spider should escape the students' notice.

Getting the giant spider to charge every few seconds was no problem at all with it under the Imperius Curse (which was only Unforgivable if cast on other humans, while acromantulas were classified as magical beasts). Lupin would monitor the test, gauge the reactions (blind panic in most cases, a few of the braver ones tried feeble spells) saw to it that nothing went terribly wrong, nor did the moment of panic last too long, then saw off the newly frightened student to a side lab to wait and clean up while the rest of the class got their individual doses of terror.

Best of all, doing so many students in one class period had the associated benefit of them not having an opportunity to tell each about what surprise awaited them, so it was fresh and new to each as they experienced their close personal introduction to panic.

Because only once you've known what fear is can you really be taught to master it.

Once that was out of the way, Nodoka took her shaking students back into her pensive to review the material that most of them had been hauled out of early. They paid a great deal more attention to it the second time through, having had what seemed at the time as a direct and personal encounter with a member of the magical world's most feared race of giant, man-eating spiders.

After that was done she broke with her first week's routine and concluded with a lecture. "Now I know that scary bit with the acromantula charging in may seem terribly unfair to you, but I would like to explain my reasons why I arranged for this little show. Danger has a nasty habit of striking when we are not prepared for it. Voldemort made that one of his primary tactics during the last war, to strike his victims at home, while in bed or a bath, making love or eating, when they were not on their guard. It proved so effective that no one seemed safe, even though his forces lost most of the direct, stand-up fights they got engaged in. So his minions avoided those types of fights whenever possible and struck mostly by surprise, at night, catching victims unprepared - and if possible alone.

"What I am trying to say is that a threat coming unexpected can seem unstoppable. But it isn't, which is good for us because very few things come at us when we are ready for them. The difference is mostly one of attitude, if you can keep your head during a tense situation you are most likely of anyone to survive. That's easy enough to do when you know you are going into danger. The next step is not to panic when danger comes to you. Death Eaters broke down a few doors and died horribly upon the wands of their intended victims, even sometimes when Voldemort himself was part of the assault. Lily and James Potter were two that even the worst attack never seemed to catch totally by surprise, and they dealt with dozens of Voldemort's followers. Each even beat him three times in duels, and one of those times Lily was wearing nothing but a bathrobe with her hair wet and plastered to her face, soap still stinging her eyes. Yet it was Voldemort who fled from her."

Nodoka's eyes softened. Sirius had told her that story, and she'd made him take a drop of Veritaserum and repeat it once before she would believe him. "Those two may be among our more famous heroes during that recent war, but there were others, many others. And the brave few stood against tides of Death Eaters, sheltering our whole world, with fewer wand arms than are standing in this room here with me now."

You've got to teach people that numbers don't always mean victory.

As she swept a kindly, reassuring gaze across that class' upturned faces, Nodoka seethed a bit inwardly. Dumbledore had such resources during that last fight, and he'd squandered them all, getting good men and women killed for no point - and much of that was Snape's doing, passing along vital information that murdered them in ambush after ambush as surely as if the spy had held the wand to cast those fatal spells.

She continued, "Voldemort's bully boys were nothing in a stand-up fight. Why, I earnestly believe that children could stand up to them and win. If it wasn't for attacking by surprise, using forbidden or even Unforgivable curses, the plotting of a schemer and the information of a spy, the latest in what appears to be an endless series of Dark Idiots had a laughably ineffective army that never truly should've been much of a threat to anyone. No matter what his personal power, Tom couldn't win a war alone, and most who fought against him never saw Voldemort in person - they fought his followers. Without their help he was nothing, as there was no way he could do all that needed to be done, be in enough places or cause enough terror, without them supporting him." She snorted, "Truly, if it weren't for his thieving band of cutthroats supplying him with money and safehouses, Voldemort never could've lasted even one year. Yes, he might've been powerful. But as a lone terrorist he could've been located and surrounded and taken out by superior numbers. As strong as he was, if caught in place by twenty or thirty aurors he would've gone down and stayed down. There are only so many spells that you can block or dodge simultaneously, no matter your skill."

Nodoka wiped her eye of a bit of dust. "But Voldy had all of that help, and squad leaders who'd gotten his clowns acting more or less organized." Not that it was terribly hard to set a group of bullies to looting, raping and hurting the helpless or innocent. But then, people like Minister Fudge couldn't lead hungry wolves to meat, much less win a war.

Raising her eyes again to face the class, she concluded, "You can be the heroes of the next war. Any one or all of you could do it, it's not that hard. The most effective weapon in any conflict is your wits. I can train you to keep your head about you in times of stress - and by their very nature, whatever followers our next Dark Idiot comes up with won't, because evil blinds itself. It is part of the fundamental nature of being what they are. Each and every one of them tells themselves going into it that they can be smarter and avoid the mistakes of those who have gone before, and each and every one of them is proven wrong in the end, because of the very nature of the thing they become. The qualities you must possess or acquire if you are to become that evil come with certain blind spots and disadvantages. It's a package deal, and worse, one that feeds on itself. Those who go that route find they have to get continuously more depraved, and are constantly deepening those flaws. That is why evil creatures are so famous for making stupid, stupid mistakes."

She pierced that class with her gaze. "What I am trying to say is that you can face danger and win, no matter its reputation. In fact every Dark Idiot that has ever risen to power has had a reputation as an unbeatable menace, and every one of them has been beaten. They spread those rumors themselves to get the reputations they need. They are always going to be scary - because they depend upon fear, and what they need fear for is to make their victims stop thinking. Once you stop thinking, you cease being able to defend yourself in any useful way or escape if things really get that bad. Once you give in to fear you stop being any kind of threat to them and they can kill you at their leisure, it doesn't matter that you may well be more powerful than your attackers are. Once you give in to fear, you have already lost."

The Professor gave a soft smile. "Fear is actually the only thing that can make their victims stupider than they are, so Dark Idiots and their followers depend upon it religiously. If you can avoid giving in to their little terror tricks, you'll already be accounted as a hero. Because you'll be a terrible, terrible threat to them and all of their plans. People will rally around you and you may well cause the downfall of your enemies just by not being afraid of them."

A Hufflepuff raised her hand. "Professor, you said 'Tom' not to long ago, when you were saying things about the last war. Who were you talking about?"

Nodoka smiled. "Our last Dark Idiot was born to a muggle father and a witch who'd used a love potion to snare him. Their boy was named Tom Marvolo Riddle. He later changed that to Lord Voldemort before he began his rise to power. You'll see that pattern repeat itself with just about every ambitious would-be ruler, throwing away a perfectly good name to call themselves the Half-Blood Prince or whatever."

There were many questions, which Nodoka did her best to answer, then released her class at the bell, after extracting a promise not to say anything to the students coming in. Since she stood outside of the door to prevent whispers or mingling, Nodoka had good success in getting her first and second years filed out and brought the third and fourth year students from the Allied Houses in.

After them, she'd run through the fifth, sixth and seventh years all together, and hopefully by running these classes through one after another in great haste and with no time to talk to one another, she'd get to maintain her surprise to be effective on everybody.

"Good morning, class. Today we will be studying Acromantulas."

I O I O I

"I still don't understand why you can't just find him with magic," Kaneda groused.

"I've told you. I keep telling you," the withered old Cologne sighed. "I've tried every spell and device I own, in every combination. Nothing comes up."

"But surely if you just tried harder..." Kaneda whined.

"It's not as simple as that!" The ancient crone snapped. "This is not about my wanting to succeed or not. Those spells require something to latch onto, a name is the easiest thing to use. See here," the old witch pulled a wand out of her robes. "Point Me Harry Potter."

The stick balanced on her finger swung around sharply to come to a rest in a distinct direction after less than one turn. "Now Point Me Furinkan High School."

The wand swung about sharply to point another way, stopping on one angle poised as purposefully as the best hound.

"Now Point Me Ranma Saotome."

The wand which had spun so energetically and purposefully before simply failed to move. Twice more she repeated this and got nothing.

"Point Me Genma Saotome's son."

The same.

"Point Me Ranko Tendo."

Nothing.

"Have it point out my fiance!" Kaneda eagerly demanded.

"You broke the engagement, remember? Dozens of times that I recall. This spell can only point to things that actually exist. It does not work on fantasies. Since you have no fiancee, there is nothing for it to find, but I'll show it to you just to prove it. Point Me Kaneda's fiance."

The same results as before got repeated again - absolute lack of movement.

"Point Me to the boy promised to marry Akane Tendo."

The slender rod twitched slightly.

"See! The wand moved!" Kaneda cried excitedly.

"Yes, but you must understand these locator spells always point to the strongest reading. Early on we were quite excited, codifying every twitch and tremor, calculating a destination that was checked out by Miss Hinako months ago. It was the Chardin house; and no, our wayward son of Genma was nowhere to be found. It was the young master Chardin that our spells were pointing to - apparently the closest thing you've got to a fiance, dear."

"Have it look for Ryoga's greatest enemy!"

"This isn't fortune telling, kiddo! I can't Point to a million tons of unclaimed gold or a place to sink a mine shaft and become rich forever! I can't find the Love Of Your Life or other shifty, little emotional dodges! It has to be something real, tangible, stable, and most importantly well known. I can't point out Yakuza secret hideouts because they are just that, secret! If your father had gone about selling you as badly as Genma did HIS son we wouldn't know it from this charm, because we DON'T know it! You could have dozens of fiances out there, but it only twitches weakly towards that poor Chardin boy. And when I use locators that CAN narrow in on 'Who is My Enemy' I find that all of Japan hates Ryoga's guts! If we are to find Happy's Lost Heir we must figure out something that points to him alone! Not to half the nation!"

"That's it! Use that spell to point out Happosai's Lost Heir!"

"I did, but I'll show you again."

Nothing.

"I don't get it. Why won't the wand move?"

The ancient, shriveled old mummy sighed. "Because Happy, in a fit of temper during a failed experiment using a Pill of Obedience, expelled son-in-law from the Anything Goes school and never formally fixed that breach. So, technically speaking, the boy does not represent Anything Goes style anymore, so cannot be its heir."

"So have it point out Kasumi! Or Shampoo, or somebody who might be with Ranma, or know where he is!"

Cologne held her wand up in a tired fashion. "Point Me my great-granddaughter Shampoo."

It moved, but it wasn't what anyone had been hoping for.

That stick, so firm and purposeful before, spun around in a lazy circle, directionless and with a notable lack of any kind of inclination to point one way over another. It spun a full turn or six before slowly drifting to a halt in a lazy, indistinct way.

A repeat of that spell with the same wording got a different, totally random direction when the spin wound down - so very different from the crisp, jarring stop of a successful point. Two more exact repeats made it absolutely certain the wand had nothing to lock on to, and it just came to a stop wherever it ran out of energy spinning, exactly as if that had been a normal stick spun by some child's hand.

"That is what you get when the object of your search has been warded against this spell. It is a fairly standard precaution for politicians, celebrities, and criminals; anyone with enemies who might not want to be found. As great-granddaughter of village matriarch, champion of our village, and from the way our Chinese magical community totally ignores the demands of our communist muggle leaders, Shampoo is all three. Her mother warded her when she was three days old. You won't be able to target anything through a connection to her, even to so strong a link as to find her husband, already married to her by village law. So I can't just Point Me son-in-law."

A repeat of the hazy, indistinct spinning until it ran out of energy on its own.

"So? Point to Kasumi!"

"I don't get it!" Kaneda shouted, when the wand once again began describing lazy circles that had no real direction or purpose to them. "How come it can't find her? She didn't have any warding when she was a kid! We didn't even know about magic back then!"

"Perhaps not as a child, no. But you forget, my twin escaped with them, and she has been doing all things in her power to stay out of our reach, including elaborate wards over the rest of our fugitives for fear of whatever clues they might give us about her if we discovered them. Even that is a sideline for her."

Kaneda blinked, dropping the rock he'd pulverized in his hands during the earlier parts of this conversation. "But wouldn't they all stay together? Except Ranma, that is. Genma was pretty persuasive when he said that his son would run off to hide on his own. That's just the sort of thing that coward would do, too, abandoning my sisters like that."

The former girl growled and began pulverizing a rock again.

Cologne shrugged, unconcerned. "Perhaps they might have stayed together as a group, but I think not. We would've heard stories about someone traveling with a horse and an octopus before now if they did. Regardless, my twin sister has been doing all she can to obscure her trail, even so meager a crumb as to protect your former sisters from my locator spells, just in case they knew something that could point our way to wherever the rest are hiding. No, my twin is so deranged she thinks that falling in love with Happy is worse than death, so she'll have rid herself of any useless and potentially dangerous baggage like your sisters as quickly as she could, so as to blend in more easily. Your sisters are in the sort of place they could easily get lost, some stable and out in the ocean somewhere. It's the way I would've done it. They stand out too easily to be disguised properly, and that makes them too risky for a refugee on the run to try to live unnoticed while carrying them along. So my double could not have done anything else but gotten rid of them, if they have escaped our notice this long.

The elder Cologne sighed tiredly. "So even if we find something that would point to son-in-law, my sister, my cursed twin, would be blocking all of those she could find. We must discover not only a link through which we can find him, but one that my twin has not yet thought of to block, and I admit that I am at my wit's end, having tried all I can think of without success." She gave a serious groan. "Nor do I anticipate any."

Kaneda double-blinked in curiosity, so Cologne explained more fully.

"The person who has the most intimate knowledge of everything I can or might do to track a person is myself, and unfortunately because of Jusenkyo's curse, that is effectively who is acting to block me. It is like dueling with your reflection in a mirror, every move and counter, no matter how fast, is perfectly duplicated in the instant you make it - And because my first few hours after realizing I truly loved Happy after all was all spent with him, making him sure he could count on me by helping him gather panties, my double got several hours lead on my acts. So my reflection is countering every move I make BEFORE I make them. That is not an advantage that can be defeated by simply wishing it would go away."

I O I O I

"This is the sort of raid Dumbledore should have been conducting during the last war." One tiny ninja-dressed fairy addressed another. "Anyone who's ever worn the Dork Mark has probably shopped here, and it's a meeting place for dark witches and wizards. If they see someone shop here, or going in or out that doesn't look scared spitless, they know that is probably their sort of person. It's a vital link in their network. Shut it down and forming large groups of dark wizards becomes virtually impossible. They don't trust easily and without a spot like this to communicate or rub shoulders they'd never get together in large numbers."

That said, the two winged fairies flew down the chimney and out the open flue into a shop filled with disgusting trophies, dark objects and human bones. It was in the pre-dawn hours of the early morning in Knockturn Alley, a time when it was dead, dead, dead, shopkeepers having stayed up most of the night dealing with shadowy customers. Right now all of the merchants were asleep, preparing themselves for the early evening rush.

Flying swiftly and not glowing the two ladies made a swift circuit of the ground floor, then the basement, finally locating their quarry on the second floor above the shop, two men and an assistant sleeping in rude bedrooms whose filthy windows had been half bricked over, torn open again, then reduced to slits sometime in the long distant past. Ragged curtains and dirty bedclothes had been roughly crammed in cracks in the brickwork to shut out light for these late sleepers, who lay in smelly heaps that had probably once been nice beds back before Ranko was born, piled with sodden, rumpled rags that could once have been blankets. On closer inspection it became clear they tossed new covers on top when the old ones had worn through enough to let a breeze in, while the bottom blankets gradually deteriorated into shredded threads of rot.

Nodoka wondered if they thought the decomposition process helped keep them warm.

But whatever she thought of their bedding, or lack of hygiene, there was nothing to fault in their magical protections. Except one thing, they all were keyed to inform the owners of an intrusion, not alert law enforcement. Natural, she supposed, for someone who broke the law so frequently and did not want a nosy policeman tromping through in an official capacity in a store piled high with items of varying stages of illegality.

But today it was going to cost them.

While she would have loved so simple a method as poison, no one in the wizarding world (aside from Voldemort, whom they'd trained) knew as much about poisons, and how to acquire long term immunity to them, as these fellows here. No toxin she had could she be certain would work. And as much as she'd love to get that information out of them, she could not think of a way to do so safely.

Imperius Curse? Borgin and Burkes dealt with dark wizards as their sole customer base. If they didn't have ability to throw that off they'd have given out enough deals and bargains so far they'd have gone out of business nearly a century ago.

Torture? Not only was that distasteful, if they couldn't resist it they couldn't stay in business, and she had no desire to keep them alive and contained in spite of the many tricks they had to have for escaping. Once again, that had to have been tried on them before. Legilimency and other tricks likewise. If they couldn't resist it, they wouldn't be up to dealing with the dark wizards who formed their sole clientele.

No, she dared not risk probing them for their secrets.

Since the floor was warded, Nodoka landed on a bed, shifting back into human form just as Cologne let loose with a wardbreaker, one like Lucius had used on her tower; an object that, due to its very nature, no magic wards could be put upon it as it broke down any it came in contact with. They'd found one flitting through the shop downstairs (and the two had quickly liberated it after disarmed the muggle trap on its box).

With two quick slashes Nodoka had killed the occupants of two of the beds. When she tried to kick down the closed door of the other bedroom she bounced off the unbreakable surface. The death of so many wards at once had awakened the man inside, and he came to his strongly protected door to peer through a peephole to see what was going on.

When he did, Nodoka stabbed him right through the wooden slats, her magic sword cutting a neat hole through the protective spells and the man on the other side, piercing his heart and killing him instantly. When he died, the last protection spells on the shop vanished.

They looted that store, and the owners' private living spaces, as ruthlessly and effectively as they had Snape's house, doing a thorough and efficient job as well as a lot of damage. Piling all of the objects too dark to take, with no conceivable use for Light, into a pile in the basement, they spilled some acids, started a few fires, rigged an explosion and vanished, drinking potions to resume fairy size and darting away with their stolen horde.

Behind them, on Knockturn Alley, the shop of Borgin and Burkes exploded, flinging shards and splinters all over Diagon Alley and starting small fires that would be out in minutes as the magical district roused itself to the noise.

As they were making their escape, Nodoka was fingering a tiny device, just a triangle of some blue stone she'd found burgling the place. It had been hidden within the covers of a old book, one with the Malfoy family crest on it. That book had once graced her library when she was still very young and tender. She'd never opened it, and Lucius had sold it as just too dangerous to have around the house bearing their coat of arms (although he kept many other copies of that same book, just more deniable without their family's distinct markings). From the impression left on the pages around it, the stone triangle had been holding that place for a century or more. By whatever fluke the book had not been opened for that long (they'd always had many copies as long as she could remember, it was a very respected Dark Arts book). But she was sure she recalled this stone from somewhere.

Then she had it. She knew where she had seen it before, not this stone precisely, but the imprint on the book's pages gave her the idea.

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

And that, my friends, is the end of the old stuff. I know I cut off the chapter end a trifle early, but I thought I'd make it easy for all of those vultures hovering about to swoop in on the new material by jumping straight to the next chapter.

Then again, I resent them badly enough I may put off posting anything new for a year or more, just to let them stew.

Nah! The stuff's already written. No need to make those I actually care about wait.


	22. Chapter 22

Hogwarts One Half  
Chapter Twenty-Two

Gringotts by Dawn's Light

by Lionheart

I O I O I

Once Nodoka had identified the talisman in her hand she'd dared not wait another minute. The ruckus that occurred with the destruction of his favorite dark arts shop would shake up her brother's little world and cause him to examine many things.

One of the things she did NOT want him thinking about was who had access to the Malfoy family vaults - something a quick review of his Dark Arts supplies could cause him to do.

He was the current Head of Family, and as such he could block her out if he wanted to. He'd already cut off her access as far as withdrawing money, and had done so long ago when she'd first begun her flight. She desperately hoped he had not reconsidered that since her return and blocked off her access entirely.

He may well have, but he couldn't have if she wanted to use this key. Because that's what she remembered this was, the blue stone triangle, a secure access key to the highest and most impenetrable sub-vault in the Malfoy treasure warren. There were three, a green one, a black one, and this blue one. The other two had been left in that lock for simply ages so they couldn't get lost, too. But she couldn't get in there to use this one if her brother had cut off her access so she couldn't get in the main door.

Unfortunately, he had. When she asked a goblin at the main desk to be taken down, he snidely informed her that she was no longer allowed to enter her family vaults, and bid her good night. A suitable bribe had gotten her in the bank doors after hours, but nothing could get her into a vault to which she had no access. So she found herself on the bank steps at quarter til five in the morning when a thought occurred to her.

Half an hour later, Nodoka stood back within the main halls of the bank, her groggy daughter by her side, and oddly enough, the girl Kodachi she'd been sleeping with by hers, just as groggy having been caught during the middle of a night's sleep.

Family vaults were blood-coded. Family heads could grant access to spouses or deny it to relatives they desired to block out, but the default was that a direct blood connection got a descendant in, and Nodoka beamed when the goblins agreed to let Ranko and her 'guests' enter the vault. Lucius had not yet thought to restrict the access of her daughter!

Of course, as a minor she couldn't remove much. Ranko's allowance of galleons would not even be worth carrying out, considering how wealthy her mother was. Nor could she remove anything restricted to adults, which left out most of the more interesting or potentially valuable artifacts listed on the register that magically kept track of the vault's contents.

But the ultra-secret sub-vault did not have its contents listed on any register. That would just have been too dangerous! Therefore, no restrictions applied!

Nodoka could hardly sit still during the cart ride down to the lowest levels, her excitement growing through each passing second until she practically threw her slow-moving, sleepy child at the door lock once they'd arrived. Using her key, newly-issued by well-bribed bank goblins, Ranko opened the vault door and Nodoka snagged the two children, dragging them inside.

The treasure piles were vastly depleted from when last she'd seen them. Funding a Dark Lord, especially one with Voldemort's tastes, was ridiculously expensive, and naturally that burden fell upon the wealthy families who supported him. Sheer idiocy to risk your life and spend your fortune working for a power-mad sadist like that one, but his recruitment slogan had sounded very flattering to the old pureblood families. One might even think Voldemort hated the purebloods, the way his war kept killing them. They died on his side and against it, often with fortunes broken long before their lives were, and now they numbered too few to sustain a viable breeding pool. Only fourteen families remained.

Oops, except that number included many lines that had met their ends at Azkaban, when she'd gone through killing Death Eaters like the LeStranges. Even among those families that remained free many had followed her brother's ridiculously stupid lead and had only one child. They'd been so busy fighting for their beloved dark lord they forgot to have more. Draco was her brother's only acknowledged child, and the lines of Crabbe, Goyle and Nott were similarly restricted. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to marry their daughters to the Crabbe and Goyle children she'd seen, no matter their heritage, and another season of war would clip the last few heirs off of too many families for blood purity to be any issue at all in the future. The ancient lines would all have ended in a generation or two.

It was sadly inevitable at this point.

If no more purebloods died and they all bred like Molly Weasley, they could perhaps draw things back from the brink this time, but the damage had already been done and she did not expect a miracle such as that. They were doomed. The future was for halfbloods.

Not that she didn't intend to go down kicking and screaming. Nodoka found blood purity to be one of the very few issues she could agree with her brother about. They were important and they were valuable. But that didn't mean she couldn't see the writing on the wall. Their time was over, and thinking about the ingrained idiocy the Pureblooded families displayed following dark lords like this one, a new thought penetrated her head thinking that perhaps their vanishing could be a good thing.

Voldemort, and others like him, had risen to power raising a very tattered battle flag, 'for the sake of the purebloods!' And like morons they had come flocking to him. Perhaps the only thing they had done, breeding true all this long time, was magnify their own idiocy. Certainly the old lines weren't any more powerful than other witches or wizards, no matter what they'd like to think. She'd personally observed that.

Come to think of it, the only purebloods she respected from her generation, aside from the cousins she loved like sisters, had all turned against the ancient pact of breeding true. Sirius had not asked her line or lineage, and she'd been going under an assumed Japanese name he'd thought at the time was her real one. The Potters, Bones, Prewetts and Weasleys had all gone against Voldemort, and only Arthur Weasley had married another pureblood.

Perhaps Cologne's way was best? They had thousands more wizards in China, and not only because there were more people in China. The percentage of magic people to non was much higher. So high in fact that the Far East often had more wizards to a province than the West did in all of Europe.

Nodoka got shaken out of her thoughts by arriving at the super secure gate to the most heavily protected vault in her family treasure warren. At hand height was a circle cut into three parts, each bearing a triangular depression. Three sided stones of green and black lay flat in two of those. The third was in her hand.

She placed it, and as she did so the vault verified her blood, and that of her daughter. The stone and metal doors slide aside, revealing a shallow chamber, mostly empty. Only a few things merited this level of protection. One was a skull composed of green crystal, another a lyre (she didn't know why that was in here), and a few other trinkets secured here for their value, their power, or sufficient illegality to destroy the Malfoy family if they got discovered possessing them.

Of all those categories, two boxes stood out as exceptional. One bore Ravenclaw's crest, one Hufflepuff's. Taking the later and opening it, Nodoka saw within the medallion matching the cup she still carried on her person, resting on velvet that had depressions for both. Her ancestors had always been ambitious, and plotted ahead many years. They had stolen Hufflepuff's medallion, intending to get the cup as well.

Now she had both. There was even a note within the box, with a date, stating that when it came and went the Statute of Limitations on the Medallion's theft was past. It was almost a hundred years ago.

Legally now, that medallion of Hufflepuff belonged to whomever found it. But, since they'd lost part of the key to this vault, the Malfoy family hadn't been able to open it to reclaim the artifact and register it as theirs. And since no record of anything in this vault existed, it belonged to anyone who came forward with it. No Malfoy claim officially existed.

Closing the box, then taking the one with Ravenclaw's crest on it, and finally emptying the whole shallow super-secret chamber into secure bags, Nodoka urged her sleepy children out of the tiny vault, reclaiming the blue stone triangle and closing the door as she did so, leading them back out the warren to a one-way exit in the rear. The goblins would not be expecting their party out the front anyway, she'd always left anonymously in the past.

Behind her, the vault's main register noted only that the secure sub-vault had been opened. It did not say by who, or if anything had been removed, only that it had opened, and when. As no such notation had appeared in over a hundred years, Nodoka could be forgiven for not knowing it would happen, or that Lucius would be reading that entry the next day.

I O I O I

By special request, approved by McGonagall at the end of last week, the first and second years of the Allied Houses went to Cologne's History class in one body, straight from their combined Defense lesson.

This served two functions; namely to keep them all together so they didn't spill the secret of Nodoka's lesson too early, and also to provide Cologne with an audience for her own suitably massive lesson.

"Greetings, class." The woman checked the time on an elegant, mechanical watch she wore on one wrist. "We have two hours of class time to fill, and due to an unusual circumstance, I have two years each of three Houses. We could do a normal lesson. But I feel something special is in order."

Walking over to Harry, the former aged Amazon placed one delicately formed hand on his shoulder to highlight the shy boy so he couldn't hide. "Mister Harry Potter has graciously granted us the opportunity of witnessing Harry's memory of the night of Voldemort's attack."

Sharp intakes of breath filled the room.

Having expected the roomful of gasps, Cologne merely smiled. "Since that will take but a few moments, we will be filling in the remainder of our time with analysis and debate of that event, what might have caused it, and some supplementary viewing."

It was with fearful respect that the combined class entered the penseive this time, and when they emerged it was with fearful sympathy that they regarded Harry and Kodachi. Kodachi, for her part, feared that sympathy might be entirely undeserved on her part, but hoped it was. Her... sigh... her *true* parents, Lily and James Potter, had been wonderful people.

She wanted to live up to their example. With perhaps less dying involved, and more defeating of the enemy.

Had to be practical about these things, after all.

Tragedies might sound nice when they are happening to other people, but when they occurred to you they universally sucked.

But Cologne didn't allow them to wallow in pity for the Potter Twins for long, quickly rushing ahead to the next memory, one Albus had kept in his pensive collection, and that they had seen and stolen a copy of when they'd borrowed that device from him - one showing Snape's part in selling out that family.

The horror of that class was unspeakable as they witnessed first Snape listening at the door to hear the prophecy that eventually targeted Harry's parents to the Dark Lord, but along with that Cologne showed a memory Dumbledore had wheedled out of Snape himself of actually giving the prophecy in person to the Dark Lord - and demanding Lily Potter as his sex slave in return.

The students of that class were FURIOUS!!

Here was a man who'd abused them and treated them unfairly, and whom none of them particularly liked, who'd gotten away with murder at the school, and who it turned out had gotten away with what was, if not literal murder, then the next best thing - targeting the Potter family for death, pointing them out as targets to the Dark Lord.

Cologne was concealing a smile under a sober expression as she walked to the front of her class. "Dumbledore would like to tell us that Snape is a changed man. However can any of you tell me a moment when Snape acted with remorse for those past deeds?"

There came nothing but silent fuming in anger as her response.

Cologne's smile could not be fully concealed. It ghosted across her face as she sat down. "There have a great many holy men defined the process of turning from evil to good. They call it repentance, and there are distinct stages of it just like there are distinct steps to a pregnancy or falling in love. The human spirit doesn't change overnight. It is a process. So here it is, in short: The person must first recognize that what they have done is wrong. Have any of you seen or witnessed Snape doing anything that might be considered denouncing the pureblood beliefs that led him to follow Voldemort in the first place?"

There came a vast silence from the room.

The Amazon folded her hands on the desk before her. "Next, the holy men teach us, the people who is trying to overcome past deeds will feel remorse for them. They will regret them as a necessary part of changing the person who they are from a being who would do and embrace those deeds to one who finds them abhorrent. Has Snape, to any of your knowledge, shown any degree of regret for his actions as a Death Eater?"

You could have heard crickets chirping in that classroom.

Cologne nodded calmly over her folded hands. "Some might try to weasel around and say he is feeling regret, just not showing it. But that claim gets trumped by the next stage, that is to confess your crimes. It is part of the healing process. In fact a very influential man by the name of Jesus Christ once summarized this whole process by this statement, 'By this ye may know if a man repenteth of his sinsbehold, he will confess them and forsake them.' Which brings us to the next very important and critical part, a man who is leaving past crimes behind will STOP DOING THEM!! For example, to quit smoking you stop putting tobacco in your mouth and lightning it. To quit drinking you stop consuming alcohol. And to put past acts of murder behind you really requires that you stop advocating the philosophy that required you to commit those murders in the first place."

The class was now simmering with anger at her words.

Cologne nodded regally. "Finally, to achieve true repentance and forgiveness of your crimes, it is beneficial to the extreme to correct your past actions to the highest degree possible. That means if you stole, return the stolen property or at least the value of it to the person or business you stole from. If you lied, tell the truth about your actions. Part of what makes both murder and rape such serious crimes is that there is no way to fully restore what was lost or damaged. You cannot return a girl's virginity to her by feeling remorse. Nor can you restore a dead victim to life. Both those crimes are so serious because what was done cannot be undone, and so the burden of remorse must be that much higher."

The woman then inhaled deeply and stood up, hands on her desk, declaring, "So, on examination of Snape's actions, can any of you bear witness that he has done any of these things? With regard to ANY of his crimes done in the past?"

She faced a class full of angry scowls and shaken heads.

The Amazon matriarch nodded soberly. "Albus Dumbledore believes in second chances. However, pretending that someone has changed is no substitute for actual change. Snape goes about actively preaching the pureblood propaganda that caused him to become a murderer and rapist many times over. He has never shown the slightest degree of remorse over his actions, and more to the point, he continues to this day to commit harm to the type of people that philosophy tells him to harm. He abuses children who do not buy into his belief that purebloods are fit to rule, and he aggrandizes those who adhere to his little cult of racial supremists. In summary, he does everything possible, and more than any reasonable person would allow, to support those beliefs Albus would say he has recanted from."

"In short," The Amazon declared to the hard and stony faces of those angry children, "He is still behaving very much the same as when he was a Death Eater. One might even say he is acting now exactly as he did back then. His only constraint seems to be there is no war going on to conceal more acts of rape and murder. But everything short of that, he does."

Cologne stepped around to the front of her desk on the way to her penseive to show more memories of the events of the last war, stating casually as she went, "More to the point, Snape has been raising up a new generation of Death Eaters, children he has taught to believe in the propaganda that caused the last war, and who are willing to do as he has shown them - hurt the people that philosophy tells them to hurt. If those people are allowed to do as he has taught them we will have another war on our hands. Since the new generation of Death Eaters is already preparing to attack us, it would be best if you children considered how you are going to fight back."

I O I O I

On a high mountain hillside overlooking a disturbing and ominous magical school, there was a rumbling, followed by an explosion of ground, revealing a young man, who demanded, "Where is F.. Furinkan High S.. school?! Oink! Squee!"

The fact that it was raining at Durmstrang Institute was not a good fortune for Ryoga, who promptly got lost again, saving himself from the students who had witnessed his change and were curious about it.

Dark Arts students were taught to dissect magical creatures alive in order to find out how they worked.

I O I O I

A lot of people that aren't Good and have nothing to do with Good think that Good is stupid. But then, most enemies in times of war try to make up nasty things to say about the opposite party, and Good and Evil were most definitely at war. So if you came across someone of that opinion, that Good was stupid, well, if they weren't Evil they'd at least been talking recently to someone who was, and listened to their propaganda.

Evil, on the other hand, was self-destructive, and in order to be self-destructive you've got to blunt a person's awareness of natural consequences (like the fact that stabbing each other in the back leads to a general decline in cooperation). So to achieve that Evil did tend to gradually degrade everything about a person, including their intellect.

The central blindness to most evil people was this thought: "I can dish it out and not receive it." Or, to put it another way, "I can cause all the harm I want and never be harmed in return."

This was a lie, but a very attractive one, and no one ever said Evil made recruits by being honest. That whole 'The wages of sin is death' deal tended to put them off if they weren't lied to and told they would get away with it. Ultimately, this was also why so many evil people were anti-religion, because they didn't like the idea of Hell, a torment they could not get out of, bribe, fool, or escape that would ultimately come back to punish them for all of their misdeeds in life. People only did evil deeds thinking they'd get away with them. It rather took the fun out of doing them to know you'd eventually pay for it.

Good people didn't mind the idea of Heaven and eternal rewards, so in general saw nothing wrong with the concept of religion. They found it a comfort, not a burden.

So most people who say they don't like religion really mean they don't like the concept of not getting away with stuff.

Draco could presently preach a sermon about not getting away with stuff.

His father had been doing everything he could to get his son some staff support, a person who'd act as his father's agent to see to it that his pampered son continued to be treated as a perfumed prince and groomed to be one of the elites. However, all the really good ones had already been taken, and Draco had managed to offend so many of their clients that they really couldn't look after him and sponsor their own pet students at the same time. It was also a testament to how much the Malfoy's reputation fell off outside of Britain that no one would be willing to drop their previous projects to take over looking after his son.

So the best Lucius was able to do was to get a certain low ranking member of the staff to look in on Draco from time to time.

The secretary for the steward, the guy who made sure that they had enough food, water, spare quills and potions supplies, who made certain that teachers had any materials they'd ordered, and who looked after the castle in general was ordinarily quite a busy fellow, having all of the duties and none of the prestige of the actual steward because the man who held the position made the secretary do all of his work while he went off to enjoy his rank and title as school officer in charge of domestic affairs of the castle.

It was a low ranking job because if anyone lacked anything you were the one to blame. But this secretary was the only person Lucius had been able to bride to look in on his son. The secretary to the steward was not ordinarily a job that got bribes, those went to the actual steward who'd then order his secretary to get the work done. But the actual steward was already sponsoring several promising young lads, many of whom had been involved in the Draco abuse, and hadn't cared for the conflict of interest.

So the secretary was looking in on him, although what he could do was limited because his boss was protecting several of the boys who were in on the abuse of him. Yes, it was a conflict of interest, however the money had been enticing, and if it came right down to it should the steward notice and object to what his secretary was doing, he'd drop Draco like a truckload of dead rats.

But until then the money was nice, although to maintain it he'd have to help with a gentle hand that did not give away he was actually helping the boy - which meant his help was of limited use.

But there was no reason to tell Lucius of that. It might stop the flow of galleons.

"Have you seen Mister Malfoy?" the secretary inquired of some seventh year students.

"Yes sir, I saw him roll down the stairs passed me wearing a garbage can."

Saying nothing against the insufferable smirks on the faces of the students, because he couldn't really do anything about them and wasn't about to offend any of their patrons by trying, the secretary meekly turned to begin walking down the long staircase, muttering, "He could have prevented this if he wasn't incompetent."

At the bottom of the steps he found a group of third year girls dipping Draco in glue and rolling him in stinging nettles.

Knowing who was backing those girls, the secretary took a seat on the steps and elected to wait until they were finished.

I O I O I

That night Ranko led her friends down to the basement of her mom's tower, opening a secret door by tracing an arithmatical symbol on a blank section of wall. That rolled back to be replaced by an astrological diagram and a date. In two seconds Ranko had filled in the missing stars, which was good because that door only allowed five for the attempt. That panel rolled back and revealed a massive wooden gate with a face-shaped doorknocker. When the group had stepped over the threshold and been fully sealed in by the doors closing behind them the face moved its mouth, but for the first second only the sound of horses clip clopping came out, then it said words. "Whoa there!"

Ranko waited in silence a second as more horse's hoofbeats sounded, then the gateway asked again. "Who goes there?"

Smirking, she replied, "It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon of the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, sovereign of all England."

"Pull the other one." The knocker snorted.

"I am. And this is my trusty servant Patsy. We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of knights who would join me at my court at Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master." Ranko silently shushed those of her friends who wanted to speak up during this exchange.

"What, ridden on a horse?" The brass face demanded.

"Yes." The redhead returned.

"You're using coconuts!"

"What?"

"You've got two empty halves of coconuts and you're banging em together!" The knocker accused.

"So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercea, through..." Ranko spoke until she got cut off.

All of a sudden the floor melted beneath them and they sank into the stones, passing down through the massive slabs of enchanted granite to a small antechamber, where Ranko at last told those who'd accompanied her what was going on, "Mom's got a triple code protection on her new labs, because twice now Dumbledore has walked in on her, catching her doing something she'd rather he didn't know about. That last gate had a 'Complete the Quote' password. Mom's got a couple of hundred ones loaded. But you'd have to be pretty well versed in muggle culture to get any of them, and she favors Monty Python because that's even more incomprehensible to most wizards than standard muggle films are."

"Oh!" At last those girls began to see.

Ranko whispered a code to one face-shaped knob out of seven, and an unremarkable wall opened instead of the metal gate they'd been facing. They passed through that and found their Defense teacher there waiting for them, while Cologne came in another entrance on the other side leading the Patils.

All attention focused on Ranko's mother and this remarkable room.

Nodoka stood in the midst of a large chamber that looked surprisingly like a modern lab. In it were hundreds of rats in neat racks of cages, a little less than a hundred of the creatures were hairless, and if you looked closely you could see the Dark Marks on their bodies. On other shelves toads were sitting on chicken eggs.

The duchess began to speak before they got too engrossed in her things. "Good evening, dears. I'll skip right to the point, because I know you all have places you'd rather be this fine night, and friends you ought to be making among the other students."

She cleared her throat. "Today, I'd like to share a bit of what I've learned of our enemy."

"Moldyshorts or the real danger to us?" Cologne queried.

"Just Moldyshorts, I'm afraid." Nodoka demurred. "I was rather hoping just to hide from the others, and this is the snake currently infesting our present hidey-hole. So I'd thought I'd do a touch of research on how to remove him, so it was safer for us to hide here."

"And what have you learned?" the teenage matriarch prompted.

"Moldyshorts has quite a sophisticated charm combination going with his Dark Mark. For one thing he can sense them, and their location. I don't think he can be fooled, either, not by the protections against magical detection the average turncoat is likely to have. So running from him once you'd decided to serve him is likely to be fatal, meaning secrets he shares with his allies are likely to remain secret. Plus, Moldyshorts is never going to be deceived by using Polyjuice or shape shifters. No one impersonating a Death Eater is going to have a proper mark, and he'll be able to tell right away they are an impostor. Even more interesting, Moldy seems to have a unique identity to each mark, so he'll not only know where his people are, and when, but who. Just that information alone is going to help him coordinate attacks better, as he'll know who's been lost in battles - or is being lost in losing battles, so he can withdraw troops or send reinforcements if he can afford them. The mark also dies with the one who is wearing it, so standard aurors could almost never get an opportunity to study them, having to deal with prisoners a certain way, and no access to active marks from corpses."

She got several nods of comprehension, and went on to explain further.

"Old Moldy can use the mark to send a call out to his forces to summon them for instructions, individually or in groups as he chooses to select, and another caveat is that anyone who is wearing one of these would find it very difficult indeed to raise a wand to hurt their master - a feedback loop occurs if that happens and would hurt a great deal. Oh, this is a very clever charm indeed. But that's not all, those marked have a much reduced sense of the marks on their own, making infiltration virtually impossible on any level, as they can detect each other at short range. It also warns Moldy and other mark-bearers if the Imperius Curse is used on one of them. It doesn't stop an Imperius, nothing so far can stop it, but it warns Moldy and other Dead Munchies when it has been applied on one of them so they can take measures to neutralize any damage done by the one controlled by it. Then there is the fact that these marks are virtually impossible to remove from a magical viewpoint. I had to use muggle surgical methods to transfer them to my lab rats. Nevertheless, Old Moldy made a couple of mistakes, and they are going to cost him."

Nodoka took off her glasses and closed her clipboard, walking on high heels over to a metal filing cabinet set on the tiled floor to put down her recent notes, before turning and reaching into her lab coat pocket. "For one thing, it was that mark more than anything that defeated him in the last war. When he was reduced to a bodiless wraith, all of his followers knew of his supposed death and panicked, going from a position of conquering army to fleeing stragglers that were childishly easy for the virtually defeated Ministry to round up. I say childishly simple because that is about the level of competence the Ministry displayed, and still it worked to gather most of them - all those they didn't pardon, that is."

The noblewoman walked over to an array of rat cages, turning one animal about so the mark was visible on its shaved side. "I though that it might be a good idea to use that again as a weapon again him, but first I had to learn how these marks worked, and do to that I had to study them. Only, the regulations for handling of prisoners forbade spell research and would have stopped me from performing live experiments just as they've done to Ministry aurors - and I've already mentioned that the marks die with those wearing them, so live testing was the only way to perform experiments on these marks at all. So I had to get access to those who wore them, under a different pretense than spell research, and that is why I thought up getting memories as my reason."

The Professor gazed fondly upon her family. "Don't get me wrong, that trip of mine to Azkaban served the Light in many ways. We did get ahold of priceless memories, and that is truly going to help us to study our enemy's methods and defeat them. Now there are far fewer Death Monkeys in the world as well. But this mark was the real key. In the end, to recover one for study, I found myself separating a stretch of skin around the mark so it hung loose like a flap, and grafting it to my experimental animal while it was still attached by one end to the original owner. Only after that graft was completed did I sever the last stretch of tissue linking it to the original Dead Tweeter. I believe because it was linked at all times to a living creature and no magic was involved did the transfer work. Although I had to go back with magic cures so the rats did not reject those skin grafts until the dark marks had worked through onto their own bodies. Only then could I begin to research the spells in them."

The redhaired woman stepped smartly away from the rat cages and faced her audience. "The triumph of all of this is, having gone this far into deciphering those spells he built into his marks I can now construct a device that can detect Dark Marks as easily as Moldyshorts can. I have already tested this, tracking Snape and other free Dung Eaters across the world. Also it has been registering my transplanted Marks as if they were the original owners. And of course, my detector can get all of that same information Moldy does and be just as hard to hide from. We'll know who he has, and where they are at any given point in time. Better yet, I can hook that up to a set of omnioculars to record everything. When a raid happens, we'll know who was there doing it, and if we're sharp we can have someone watching the set to alert us to attacks as they occur - and that's assuming that we can't just attack him in his lair, as we'll know where it is from Dead Munchies who accumulate there. About the only drawback is to get the full information requires a setup that isn't remotely portable."

Nodoka gestured to a large machine that looked like it belonged in an old science fiction movie and continued, "Obviously, I can remove the marks, though I prefer to transfer them to lab rats so that I can preserve them for study, and perhaps later as a distraction. After all, he'll want to track down any of his followers who are so traitorous so as to not appear when he returns and calls them. I can place transfigured rats all over the place so he'll think they're former followers in hiding. Finding and destroying my decoys divides his forces, and allows the opportunity to lay a few traps as an additional bonus. There is also the fact that the very thing Voldemort created the Dark Mark to protect himself against, infiltration, can now be done by shoving a rat in your pocket and impersonating the Dead Munchie whose mark I've put on it. The location sense inherent in them isn't so precise at close ranges, and they'll never tell the difference between a mark on your arm or on an animal in your pocket. From what I've found in the relevant memories, the Dead Monkeys rely so much on the mark to tell them of any impersonators that other anti-infiltration methods are ignored. About the only real danger is if Moldyshorts should hold any skinny dipping parties for his followers and you can't excuse yourself in time."

That earned a round of giggles.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It would still be terribly dangerous, mostly because of Moldy's mind reading skills and his regular treatment of actual followers borders on the insane. However, personal Dark Mark detectors could be constructed very easily at this point, providing a vital bit of warning before you are under attack, and reducing Old Moldy's attempts to use infiltrators or spies of his own. Their side can still use innocent people whom they've had slapped with an Imperius Curse, of course. But thanks to his efforts we can now detect that spell as well as he can, and though we won't have everyone wearing their own personal mark warning others "My will is not my own", we can set up wards on locations, or carry a device to tell you if others have been so subverted, or cast spells to determine if it has happened - as very few will be able to afford having their own Imperius Revealer to carry on their person."

"Which reminds me," Nodoka walked over to a table bearing several objects. "I have some valuable equipment for all of you."

I O I O I

Author's Notes:

Tom Riddle was a genius once, and he was a child when radio was just becoming common in the muggle world. The ability to command and control large, disparate forces through radio was an amazing achievement, and the crowning difference between modern armies and ancient ones. Forces that had large long distance communication networks succeeded even against significantly larger forces that did not.

So the way I picture him creating in that mark was a reflection of that - a magic radio that can't be lost because it's tattooed right onto your body, and we've already seen him using it that way to summon his inner circle to his side.

Of course, he's evil, so slavery and control on top of that, snuck in as extras, but he did get a small group of people to defeat and totally humiliate the much larger Ministry forces. So communication could have been a big contributor to that, and he was raised in the muggle world right when that was becoming a big deal. 


End file.
